LIIBRARY 

OF  THK 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
Accessions  No.St  .      Class  No. 


S.  W.  BENEDICT,  PRINTER,  128  FULTON  ST. 


KRUMMACHER'S   WORKS 


JACOB 
WRESTLING   WITH   THE  ANGEL 

SERMONS 

ON  GENESIS  CHAPTER  XXXIL 


JACOB  WRESTLING  WITH  THE  ANGEL, 


Now,  by  that  touch,  Mysterious  man  !  I  know 
Thy  nature's  more  than  human  !— Let  thee  go ! 
Not  till  thou  bless  me.    If,  through  all  the  night, 
My  daring,  struggling  limbs  increas'd  in  might ; 
If  thou  thy  strength  attempered  e'en  to  mine, 
If  thus  resisting  I  o'ermastered  thine ; 
Then  wilt  thou  too,  my  daring  speech  approve, 
For  all  thy  wrestling  was  but  tender  love  ! 
My  name  is  JACOB — thou  hast  made  me  bold, 
Thine  arms  that  have  repell'd  me,  must  enfold  ! 
Thou  shall,  Oh  Wondrous  Stranger !  e'er  we  part — 
Stamp  thine  eternal  blessing  on  my  heart ! 

Thy  name  no  more  is  JACOB  !    Thou  hast  seen 
By  faith's  keen  vision,  what  thy  trials  mean  ! 
Thy  name  is  ISRAEL  !    Knighted  Prince  of  God  ! 
For  thou  with  him  the  wrestling  ring  hast  trod  ! 
Nay — cease !     Ask  not  for  my  peculiar  name, 
Enough  to  know  'twill  put  thy  foes  to  shame  : 
Take  this  white  stone — 'tis  deeply  graven  there, 
With  thine,  a  token  of  prevailing  prayer ! 
Forth  to  thy  work — thy  darkest  clangers  brave, 
My  name  goes  with  thee,  and  'tis  strong  to  save ! 

AMERICAN  EDITOK. 


.>  OV.7 

sivs 


JACOB 
WRESTLING    WITH   THE    ANGEL. 

SERMON  I. 

GENESIS  XXXII.  24. 

-An</  Jacob  was  left  alone  :  and  there  wrestled  a  man  with  him 
until  the  breaking  of  the  day. 

THE  verse  we  have  just  read,  forms  a  part  of  one  of 
the  most  wonderful  narratives  contained  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures  ;  and  upon  which  we  intend  to  meditate  on 
this  and  some  future  occasions. 

Strengthened  and  refreshed  by  the  promise,  '  I  will 
do  thee  good,'  the  Patriarch  Jacob,  at  the  express 
command  of  his  God,  had  removed  from  Haran,  where 
for  a  long  period  he  had  served  his  uncle  Laban,  in 
order  to  return  to  his  native  land.  This  displeased 
Laban  so  much,  that  he  went  in  pursuit  of  his  son-in- 
law,  and  overtook  him  on  Mount  Gilead.  His  anger 
was  inflamed  against  him  to  such  a  degree,  that  he 
would  certainly  have  done  the  Patriarch  a  serious  in- 
jury :  since  he  boasted  that,  with  the  help  of  God,  he 
had  power  enough  for  that  purpose,  if  God  had  not 
forbidden  this  Syrian,  in  a  dream,  to  take  heed  not  to 


10  THE   WRESTLING   OF    JACOB. 

speak  otherwise  than  in  a  friendly  manner  to  him  :  al- 
though Rachel  was,  nevertheless,  in  peril  of  her  life. 
At  length  every  thing  was  amicably  settled,  and  they 
parted  in  a  peaceful  and  friendly  manner.  Laban 
turned  back  ;  and  whilst  Jacob  was  proceeding  on  his 
journey,  he  was  met,  to  his  great  comfort,  by  the  angels 
of  God.  Thus  pleasingly  was  he  extricated  from  this 
trying  situation. 

Scarcely,  however,   had  he  been  rescued  from   this 
danger,  then  he  fell  into  another  of  a  much  more  seri- 
ous nature.     The  fury  of  his   brother   Esau,  and   his 
threat,   c  The  days   of  mourning  for  my  father  are  at 
hand,  then  will  I  slay  my  brother  Jacob,'  had  compell- 
ed the  latter  to  seek  his  safety  in  flight.     When  he  re- 
turned into  Esau's  neighborhood,  his  first  concern  was 
to  gain  his  favor.     He    attempted  to  accomplish  this 
by  sending  messengers  to  him  ;  who,  in  the  humblest 
terms,  were  to  endeavor  to  secure  his  good  will.     But 
they   soon  returned  with  the  intelligence,  that  his  bro- 
ther Esau  was  coming  to  meet  him,  with  four  hun- 
dred men.     *  Then  Jacob  was  greatly  afraid  and  dis- 
tressed ;'  and  that  with  reason  :  for  what  other  inten- 
tions could  Esau  have  than  such  as  were  hostile  7  And 
what  had  Jacob  to  oppose  to  such  a  host  ?  Nothing  ; 
not  even  flight.      What  a  distressing  and  helpless  sit- 
uation !     O  God,  into  what  painful  circumstances  dost 
thou  sometimes  suffer  thy  favorites  to  fall  ;  and  yet  it 
is  only  for  the  attainment  of  the  most  blessed  ends. 

Jacob's  anxiety,  however,  is  not  so  great  as  to  deprive 
him  of  all  reflection  ;  although  his  confidence  in  God  is 
not  lively  enough  to  render  him  as  courageous  as  a  young 


SERMON  I.  11 

lion.  He  makes  such  prudent  arrangements  that  the 
possibility  of  escape  it  afforded  to  one  part  should  the 
other  be  destroyed  by  Esau.  Nor  did  he  neglect  any 
thing  which  seemed  likely  to  reconcile  Esau  and  win 
his  heart :  to  which  several  considerable  presents,  which 
he  prepared  for  that  purpose,  were  intended  to  contri- 
bute. 

But  the  pious  Patriarch  did  not  let  the  matter  rest 
there  ;  he  did  not  ground  his  confidence  upon  these  ar- 
rangements, but  upon  God.  In  the  midst  of  his  anx- 
ious preparations,  he  applied  to  Him  by  earnest  prayer, 
which  emanated  from  the  depth  of  his  distress.  He  ap- 
pears openly  before  his  covenant  God ;  he  frankly  con- 
fesses his  fears,  and  does  not  conceal  his  wretchedness ; 
he  thanks  Him  for  all  his  former  undeserved  benefits;  he 
bows  himself  in  deep  humility  ;  he  cleaves  by  faith  to 
the  command  and  gracious  promise  of  the  Lord  '  Thou, 
saidst,  I  will  surely  do  thee  good  ;'  he  cleaves  to  the 
power  and  goodness  of  God,  and  beseeches  Him  to  de- 
liver him.  He  passed  a  sleepless  night  in  making  the 
arrangements  he  thought  necessary ;  and  conducted  his 
flocks,  his  family,  and  his  people  over  the  brook  Jabbok. 

He  was  then  left  entirely  alone  :  which  he  preferred, 
as  being  the  best  suited  for  his  state  of  mind  at  the  time. 
He  was  desirous  of  pouring  out  his  heart  still  more  fully 
before  the  Lord ;  of  praying  still  more  fervently ;  of 
pressing  to  the  throne  of  Grace,  unhindered  by  external 
things,  at  a  time  when  he  required  help.  The  good 
hand  of  God  which  was  extended  over  him,  drew  him 
into  this  retirement,  because  it  had  something  great  and 
particular  in  view  with  him. 


12  THE   WRESTLING    OF   JACOB. 

It  was  night :  a  season  calculated  in  itself  to  excite  a 
feeling  of  awe.  The  heavens  above  him,  with  their 
countless  stars,  reminded  him  of  the  promise  given  to 
his  holy  forefather,  and  sealed  it  to  him  also,  that  thus 
numerous  should  his  descendants  be.  The  gloomy  earth 
was  full  of  terrors  to  him,  and  Esau  not  far  off;  perhaps 
even  very  near.  His  help  was  solely  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord,  who  made  heaven  and  earth.  What  a  bless- 
ed night  he  had  already  once  enjoyed,  when  sleeping  in 
a  desert  with  a  stone  beneath  his  head,  and  when  heav- 
en opened  itself  above  him !  But  this  was  a  night  of 
anxious  fear.  It  was  not  only  night  around  the  holy  Pa- 
triarch, but  it  had  also  become  dark  in  his  soul.  He  was 
greatly  afraid.  This  fear  seemed  to  be  justified  by  the 
circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed  :  yet  still  it  had 
its  root  in  his  want  of  faith ;  and  if  Christ  blamed  his 
disciples  on  account  of  the  unbelieving  fear  which 
they  manifested  in  the  most  imminent  danger  of  death, 
Jacob  was  also  deserving  of  a  similar  reproof  on  account 
of  similar  misconduct ;  although  that  must  be  an  uncom- 
mon confidence,  which  can  preserve  us  from  fear  under 
such  appalling  circumstances. 

Jacob  was  manifestly,  according  to  the  expression 
of  the  Apostle,  '  not  perfect  in  love  ;'  for  the  latter 
expels  fear.  Fear,  however,  proceeds  more  especially 
from  an  evil  and  defiled  conscience.  No  sooner  had 
Adam  incurred  the  latter  by  his  disobedience,  than  he 
was  afraid,  and  fled  from  the  face  of  God.  A  guilty 
conscience  is  like  a  dangerous  and  poisonous  impost- 
hume  in  the  individual,  which  finally  prepares  him  for 
the  flames  of  hell,  unless  healed  by  the  blood  of 


SERMON  I.  13 

Christ,  the  only  remedy.  This  alone,  appropriated  by 
the  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  brings  peace.  Who 
does  not  know  that  Jacob  was  an  object  of  God's  love, 
and  therefore  also  a  partaker  of  this  peace.  But  as  the 
renovation  of  the  children  of  God  here  upon  earth  is 
progressive,  so  this  part  of  it  is  particularly  so,  and  is 
more  obvious  when  trying  occasions  and  circumstances 
occur,  than  at  other  tunes.  Besides  which,  God,  as  Mo- 
ses says  in  Psalm  xc.,  places,  in  the  times  of  visitation, 
'our  trangressions  before  him,  and  our  secret  sins  in  the 
light  of  his  countenance.  He  begins,  at  some  after- 
period,  to  reckon  with  his  servants,  and  to  set  before 
their  eyes  what  they  have  done  ;  and  then  is  fulfilled 
what  is  written  in  Psalm  xcix.  8,  (  Thou  answeredst 
them,  thou  forgavest  them,  though  thou  tookest  ven- 
geance of  their  inventions.'  They  are  perhaps  not 
sufficiently  awrare  of  the  greatness  of  the  guilt  ;  its 
abominable  and  culpable  nature,  and  the  aggravating 
circumstances  which  attend  it.  They  have  not  been 
rendered  sufficiently  contrite,  humble,  and  heart-broken 
on  account  of  it ;  they  have  not  sufficiently  accused 
themselves  before  God  because  of  it  ;  they  have  been 
desirous  of  excusing,  if  not  of  justifying  themselves  in 
some  measure  ;  their  hatred  to  sin  is  perhaps  not  suffi- 
ciently powerful ;  their  desire  for  deliverance,  and  their 
gratitude  on  account  of  it,  not  sufficiently  ardent. 
They  must  be  made  to  ascend  higher,  and  to  descend 
deeper.  Their  self-knowledge  is  to  receive  an  addi- 
tion, and  their  view  of  the  real  nature,  extent,  necessi- 
ty, and  preciousness  of  Divine  grace,  to  become  bright- 
er. Their  conscience  is  to  be  rendered  more  tender, 
2* 


14  THE    WRESTLING    OF   JACOB. 

their  walk  more  circumspect,  their  looking  unto  the 
Lord  more  fixed,  their  abiding  in  Him  and  his  abiding 
in  them  more  intimate  ;  and  themselves,  generally 
speaking,  more  fit  for  every  good  work,  by  faith  in 
Christ  Jesus.  The  potter  takes  the  clay  into  his  form- 
ing hand,  and  purifies  and  ennobles  it  from  one 
degree  to  another.  The  path  of  the  child  of  God  is 
from  faith  to  faith,  from  strength  to  strength.  The 
fruitfulness  which  was  at  first  but  thirty-fold,  becomes 
sixty-fold,  and  the  latter  an  hundred-fold.  In  the  blade 
the  ear  is  formed  ;  the  latter  shoots  pleasingly  forth 
from  its  envelopement,  and  fills  itself  with  corn,  which 
ripens  in  the  sunshine  and  the  storm.  The  child  be- 
comes a  youth,  the  youth  a  man  and  a  father  in  Christ ; 
in  whom,  as  the  Head,  they  all  grow  together  in  all 
things.  Such  is  the  conduct  of  the  Father  with  his 
elect,  whom  he  has  chosen  in  Christ,  before  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world,  that  they  might  be  holy  and  with- 
out blame  before  him  in  love  ;  and  such  was  the  path 
by  which  he  led  Jacob  whom  he  loved. 

Something  had  occured  in  the  life  of  this  Patriarch, 
which  was  out  of  order,  and  this  was  the  blessing  of  his 
father.  Isaac  intended  to  have  bestowed  it  upon  Esau  ; 
but  with  the  assistance  of  his  mother,  who  gave  the 
preference  to  Jacob,  even  as  Isaac  strangely  did  to  Esau, 
he  deprived  Esau  of  the  blessing  intended  for  him,  and 
procured  its  bestowment  upon  himself.  We  know  the 
artful  manner  in  which  this  was  accomplished,  and 
how  the  old  blind  patriarch  was  deceived,  who  took 
Jacob  for  Esau,  and  blessed  him  instead  of  the  latter. 
It  is  true  that  the  blessing  descended  upon  him  for 


SERMON  I.  15 

whom  God  had  intended  it.  For  before  the  children 
were  born,  and  had  done  neither  good  nor  evil,  it  was 
said  to  Rebecca,  the  elder  shall  serve  the  younger,  in 
order  '  that  the  purpose  of  God  according  to  election 
might  stand,  not  of  works  but  of  Him  that  calleth,  as 
it  is  written,  Jacob  have  I  loved,  but  Esau  have  I 
hated.'  It  is  true  also,  that  Isaac,  on  afterwards  learn- 
ing the  real  state  of  the  case,  instead  of  retracting  his 
blessing,  confirmed  it,  and  did  not  suffer  a  single  word 
of  disapprobation  to  fall,  respecting  the  manner  in 
which  he  had  been  deceived  and  imposed  upon.  But 
deception  continues  to  be  deception,  and  consequently 
sinful  and  not  to  be  excused  but  reproved,  in  whatever 
cause  it  may  be  employed.  Some,  indeed,  with  the 
venerable  Luther  at  their  head,  have  not  only  excused 
the  mode  of  acting  of  Rebecca  and  her  son,  but  have 
even  justified  and  defended  it  as  the  consequence  of  a 
noble  faith.  Jacob,  however,  did  not  regard  it  in  this 
light,  but  was  apprehensive,  lest  by  such  conduct  he 
should  have  inherited  a  curse  instead  of  a  blessing  from 
his  father  ;  and  when  his  mother  endeavored  to  paci- 
fy liim  by  saying,  i  Upon  me  be  thy  curse,  my  son  !' 
it  is  evident  she  means  nothing  by  it,  and  is  a  proof 
that  she  was  unable  to  make  a  proper  reply.  To  de- 
fend such  a  transaction,  is  in  reality  only  to  maintain 
the  abominable  position,  that  the  end  sanctifies  the 
means.  But  this  is  certain,  that  God  never  fails  of  at- 
taining his  aim,  and  that  even  the  improper  conduct  of 
individuals  must  promote  the  accomplishment  of  his 
purposes.  Yet  these  improprieties  are  not  thereby  jus- 
tified ;  otherwise  the  curse  on  account  of  the  crucifix- 


16  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

ion  of  Christ,  would  have  unjustly  adhered  to  the  Jews 
to  the  present  day.  '  Shall  we  do  evil,  that  good 
may  come  ?  God  forbid  !'  The  condemnation  of 
those  who  act  from  such  a  motive  is  just. 

Those  words  in  Psalm  I.  are  often  verified,  '  These 
things  hast  thou  done  and  I  kept  silence  :  but  I  will 
reprove  thee,  and  set  them  in  order  before  thine  eyes.' 
Jacob's  conduct  in  that  affair  now  seemed  ready  to 
avenge  itself  upon  him,  and  he  might  be  apprehensive 
of  the  curse,  respecting  which  he  had  previously  so 
easily  satisfied  himself  with  the  unmeaning  words  of 
his  mother.  How  easily  might  such  thoughts  as  the 
following  occur  to  him  :  "  Thy  father  did  not  in  reali- 
ty bless  thee,  but  Esau,  his  first  born,  for  whom  thou 
didst  give  thyself  out.  The  blessing  has  no  reference 
to  thee.  Thou  art  a  deceiver,  and  that  of  the  basest 
kind.  Although  thou  hast  imposed  upon  thy  venera- 
ble father,  and  abused  his  lamentable  blindness,  which 
ought  to  have  induced  thee  to  act  with  the  greatest  sin- 
cerity ;  yet  the  eye  of  God  has  only  been  the  more 
acutely  fixed  upon  thee  ;  thou  hast  been  unable  to  de- 
ceive Him.  Thou  art  a  deceiver  ;  thou  art  worthy  of 
death  !  And  lo  !  Esau,  who  was  blessed  in  thy  per- 
son, is  now  coming  against  thee  with  four  hundred 
men,  to  execute,  as  a  servant  of  Divine  justice,  the 
sentence  of  death  upon  thee  !  Thou  oughtest  to  have 
acknowledged,  confessed,  and  made  reparation  for  thy 
fault.  The  long-restrained  wrath  of  God  is  awaking 
over  thee.  It  is  now  too  late.  How  couldst  thou 
dare,  how  could  such  a  man  as  thou  venture  to  suppose 
that  God  had  said  to  thee,  '  I  will  do  thee  good.' 


SERMON  I.  17 

Wilt  thou  make  God  the  minister  of  sin,  by  supposing 
that  he  will  be  gracious  to  such  a  wretch  as  thou  art  ? 
The  Devil  must  have  been  justly  permitted  to  suggest 
such  pleasing  thoughts  to  thee,  in  order  the  more  infal- 
libly to  destroy  thee.  Instead  of  making  the  com- 
mencement with  repentance,  thou  hast  imagined  thy- 
self, to  thy  own  injury,  in  a  state  of  grace.  It  will 
now  be  proved.  Esau — what  a  noble  character  he  is 
compared  with  thee !  He  has  threatened  thee  with 
death ;  and  what  else  dost  thou  deserve  at  his  hands  ? 
Hast  thou  not  most  basely  endeavored  to  rob  and  mur- 
der him,  by  cunningly  stealing  the  blessing  intended 
for,  and  in  reality  pronounced  upon  him  ?  '  Be  Lord 
over  thy  brother  !'  it  was  said  in  the  blessing  which 
thou  didst  so  unjustly  seek  to  appropriate  to  thyself. 
Dost  thou  not  now  evidently  see  who  has  experienced 
the  fulfilment  of  it  1  Thou,  a  poor  servant  ;  he,  a 
lord  with  four  hundred  men  ;  and  thou  entirely  in  his 
hand,  O  thou  poor  deceived  Jacob  !  Where  is  there  a 
poorer  man  than  tlfou  V9  And  he  lifted  up  his  voice 
and  wept  bitterly. 

And  are  you,  my  friends,  entirely  unacquainted  with 
trials  of  this  kind  ?  I  can  scarcely  suppose  it,  unless 
you  are  novices  in  the  Christian  course.  You  have  put 
on  the  armor.  Until  you  are  at  liberty  to  put  it  off, 
many  things  may  occur,  of  which  it  is  unnecessary  now 
to  speak  in  detail.  Let  this  suffice ;  if  you  are  children, 
call  upon  the  Father,  who  without  respect  of  persons, 
judgeth  according  to  every  man's  work.  Therefore  pass 
the  time  of  your  sojourning  here  in  fear.  If  you  are 
children,  you  will  not  be  without  chastisement ;  and  the 


18  THE   WRESTLING   OF    JACOB. 

dearer  the  child  the  sharper  the  discipline.  David  once 
said  when  it  went  well  with  him, '  I  shall  never  be 
moved ;'  for  the  Lord,  in  his  mercy,  had  made  his  moun- 
tain to  stand  strong.  But  no  sooner  did  he  hide  his  face 
than  he  was  troubled.  Therefore  be  not  high-minded, 
but  humble.  Be  not  self-confident,  but  take  heed  lest 
thou  fall,  whilst  thinking  thou  art  standing.  Boast  not 
thyself  of  to-morrow,  for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day 
may  bring  forth.  Build  thy  house  upon  the  rock,  and 
take  heed  lest  thou  regard  that  as  a  rock,  which  is  not 
so  in  reality.  And  though  it  be  the  rock,  yet  remember 
how  easily  thou  mayest  build  wood  and  stubble  upon  it, 
which  the  fire  will  destroy.  If  it  be  genuine  gold,  it 
must  still  pass  through  the  fire.  For  the  fire  shall  try 
every  man's  work  of  what  sort  it  is.  6  Thy  filthiness 
is  so  abominable,'  it  is  said  in  Ezekiel  xxiv.  13, '  that 
although  I  have  purged  thee,  yet  thou  wast  not  cleansed, 
therefore  thou  shalt  not  be  purged  from  thy  filthiness 
any  more,  till  I  have  caused  my  fury  to  rest  upon  thee.' 
The  holy  Patriarch  wrestled  in  faith  with  the  tempta- 
tions above-mentioned,  and  prayed,  or  at  least  wished 
to  do  so,  and  to  hold  converse  with  the  Lord.  The  fol- 
lowing was  probably  his  train  of  thought  and  anxious 
inquiry  :  "  Art  thou  then  really  my  God  and  Father,  or 
art  thou  so  no  longer  ?  Have  I  deceived  myself  in  firmly 
believing,  that  notwithstanding  all  my  un worthiness, 
thou  lovest  me,  that  I  might  be  so  much  the  more  to  the 
praise  of  the  glory  of  thy  grace,  after  seeing  and  tasting 
it,  and  when  I  loved  and  praised  thee  on  account  of  it  ? 
Certainly  it  can  never  be.  But  the  feeling  of  it  is  now 
so  much  obscured,  and  so  doubtful,  that  I  can  no  longer 


SERMON  I.  19 

rejoice  in  it ;  especially  now,  in  this  my  time  of  trouble, 
when  I  so  particularly  need  it.  O  look  upon  me  there- 
fore in  mercy,  and  cause  thy  face  to  shine  !  Cast  a 
friendly  ray  into  my  darkness." 

In  this  manner  probably  he  prayed.  '  And  there 
wrestled  a  man  with  him.'  Wonderful  occurrence. 
What  terror  must  it  have  inspired  !  Jacob  justly  thought 
himself  quite  alone.  All  at  once  he  suddenly  feels 
himself  laid  hold  of  by  some  one.  Who  it  is  he  knows 
not  ;  he  is  only  conscious  that  it  is  not  a  wild  beast 
s-  eking  to  devour  him,  but  a  man.  This  man  does  not 
appear  to  be  his  friend,  but  his  foe — perhaps  one  of 
Esau's  four  hundred  men.  Wlioever  it  is,  he  struggles 
with  him.  He  lays  hold  of  the  terrified  patriarch  in 
such  a  manner  as  if  he  would  either  push  him  away 
from  his  place,  or  throw  him  upon  the  ground.  Jacob 
defends  himself;  he  grasps  his  antagonist,  whom  he  does 
not  yet  know,  and  refuses  either  to  move  from  the  spot, 
or  to  let  himself  be  thrown  down.  He  exerts  all  his 
strength,  and  the  conflict  lasts  l  until  the  breaking  of 
the  day.' 

Who  was  this  man  ?  Jacob  did  not  know  at  first : 
but  by  degrees  it  became  apparent  to  him  who  he  was. 
If  we  form  an  opinion  of  him  from  the  circumstance  of 
his  seeing  that  *  he  prevailed  not  against  Jacob,'  we 
shall  think  very  differently  of  him  on  reading  what  im- 
mediately follows : — *  he  touched  the  hollow  of  his 
thigh,  and  the  hollow  of  Jacob's  thigh  was  out  of 
joint,'  for  to  this,  a  more  than  human  power  is  requi- 
site. When  he  says, '  Let  me  go,'  he  appears  inferior 
to  Jacob,  and  dependent  upon  him.  But  when  Jacob 


20  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

entreats  his  blessing — he  exalts  him  far  above  him,  and 
even  above  his  father  Isaac,  who  had  already  blessed 
him  in  the  name  of  God.  When  the  man  gives  him 
the  name  of  Israel,  and  explains  to  him  the  meaning  of 
that  appellation,  by  telling  him  with  whom  he  had 
been  wrestling,  and  over  whom  he  has  prevailed — 
*  with  God  and  with  men ' — every  veil  falls  away,  and 
the  man  presents  himself  to  us  in  his  true  form.  Al- 
though he  declines  mentioning  his  name,  in  reply  to 
Jacob's  simple  question,  yet  he  reveals  it  the  more 
clearly  by  the  act  of  c  his  blessing  him  there.'  But 
when  the  sun  arose  in  Jacob's  comprehension,  upon  the 
whole  affair,  he  called  the  place  Peniel ;  f  for,'  said 
he, '  I  have  seen  God  face  to  face,  and  my  life  is  pre- 
served.' 

"  Extraordinary  occurrence !  Who  can  fathom  it  ?" 
What !  does  this  appear  so  strange  to  you,  although 
you  have  seen  the  Son  of  man  under  such  entirely  dif- 
ferent circumstances  1  Remember  that  it  was  predicted 
of  old,  that  His  name  should  be  called  '  Wonderful.' 

This  man  wrestled  with  him  until  the  breaking  of 
the  day.  This  man  had  for  a  time,  assumed  a  human 
body,  in  order  to  wrestle  with  Jacob  bodily.  He  seized 
him  with  his  hands,  and  held  him  fast  with  his  arms,  in 
order  to  expel  him  from  the  place,  or  else  throw  him 
upon  the  ground.  Can  we  suppose  that  complete 
silence  was  observed  during  the  conflict ;  and  that  no- 
thing more  was  spoken  than  what  we  find  recorded  ? 
We  can  scarcely  imagine  it.  But  may  we  venture  to 
fill  up  the  gap  which  Moses  has  left  here,  by  our  own 
suppositions,  if  they  are  religious,  founded  on  the  word 


SERMON  I.  21 

of  God,  and  conformable  to  faith  and  experience? 
Why  should  we  not  ?  It  is  at  least  certain,  that  if  any 
thing  was  spoken  during  the  struggle,  it  was  nothing 
consolatory  and  encouraging  on  the  part  of  the  angel 
of  God  ;  but  in  character  with  the  act  of  wrestling, 
which  was  no  token  of  friendship.  But  what  is  it  that 
the  Spirit  discovers  to  the  individual,  and  with  which  he 
upbraids  him  ?  Is  it  not  his  sin  ?  And  had  Jacob  no 
sin  ?  Might  it  not  have  been  said  to  him, ( Away  with 
thee  from  this  holy  place  where  angels  linger !'  Might 
not  the  whole  catalogue  of  his  guilt  have  been  unfolded 
to  him  in  all  its  particulars ;  and  might  it  not  have  been 
most  clearly  proved  to  him,  that  in  himself  there  did 
not  seem  the  slightest  ground  for  that  love  which  God 
had  toward  him ;  but  that  it  must  be  sought  and  found 
in  quite  a  different  place  ?  In  this  way,  in  a  spiritual 
manner  also,  his  hip  might  have  been  disjointed,  and 
the  last  idea  of  his  own  worthiness,  &c.  destroyed. 
If  Satan  upbraids  a  soul  with  sins ;  if  he  appears  at  the 
right  hand  of  a  Joshua  in  unclean  garments,  to  accuse 
him ;  we  are  well  aware  what  his  intentions  are — to 
distress,  to  plunge  into  immoderate  grief,  to  cast  into 
despair,  and  entirely  to  destroy.  But  the  Son  of  God 
does  not  act  thus.  He  does  it  only  to  humble  us,  and 
to  allure  us  to  himself,  in  order  afterwards  to  comfort 
us  the  more.  How  did  he  act  towards  Saul  ?  Did  he 
not  call  out  to  him,  '  Thou  persecutest  me  ?'  How 
towards  Peter  ?  Did  he  not  thrice  inquire  if  he  loved 
him  ?  How  did  he  conduct  himself  towards  the  Syro- 
phenician  woman  ?  Did  he  not  almost  call  her  a  dog  ? 
And  did  not  the  angels  of  the  seven  churches  receive 
3 


22  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

almost  all  of  them  a  particular  and  emphatic  reproof? 
We  know  for  what  purpose.  As  soon  as  Paul  perceiv- 
ed that  Satan  had  his  hand  in  the  matter,  he  advised  the 
Corinthians  to  comfort  and  forgive  the  sinners  amongst 
them  so  much  the  more,  that  they  might  not  sink  into 
excessive  sorrow,  and  be  over-reached  by  Satan. 

If  the  angel  of  God  wrestled  with  Jacob,  the  latter 
struggled  also  with  all  his  might  with  God,  or  acted  as 
a  prince  towards  him.  He  would  by  no  means  let  him- 
self be  moved  away  from  his  place,  but  resisted  with  all 
his  strength,  both  bodily  and  spiritual.  Tears  and 
prayers  were  the  most  powerful  and  victorious  weapons 
with  which  he  wrestled  and  overcame  the  Son  of 
God.  "  Upbraid  me," — will  have  been  his  prayerful 
language,  amidst  a  flood  of  tears, — "  upbraid  me  with 
all  my  sins  ;  unfold  and  develope  them  in  all  their 
odiousness  ;  reveal  to  me  each  aggravating  circum- 
stance ;  shew  me  my  whole  desert.  I  grant  it  all,  I  do 
not  excuse,  cloke,  or  palliate  any  thing.  But  this  I  tell 
thee  also,  I  do  not  stand  here  on  my  own  righteousness, 
for  I  have  none  ;  but  rely  upon  thy  mercy.  Art  thou, 
yea,  art  thou  not  thyself,  however  hostile  may  be  thy 
position  towards  me — art  not  thou  thyself  JEHOVAH  ZIE- 
KENU,  the  Lord  my  righteousness  ?  Is  there  the  slightest 
spot,  wrinkle,  or  blemish  in  it  ?  Was  my  forefather 
Abraham  justified  by  his  works — was  he  not  by  thy 
grace  ?  No  ;  thou  wilt  never  reject  the  poor  sinner 
who  takes  refuge  with  thee.  Hast  thou  not  given  thy 
word  upon  it,  that  thou  art  not  come  to  call  the  right- 
eous but  sinners  to  repentance  ?  Wilt  thou  begin  with 
met  o  invalidate  thine  own  word  ?  Thy  truth  and  faith- 


SERMON    I.  23 

fulness  will  not  suffer  this.  Thy  great  mercy  itself  pre- 
sents me  with  weapons  against  thy  justice." 

In  this,  or  a  similar  manner,  the  fight  of  faith  is 
carried  on.  Secretly  and  imperceptibly  all  kinds  of 
suitable  weapons  are  handed  to  the  warrior,  even  as  to 
the  Canaanitish  woman  the  suitable  reply,  *  Yea,  Lord, 
but  the  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  their 
masters'  table,'  by  which  she  set  Jesus  fast — so  to 
speak — and  obliged  him  to  yield  the  victory  to  her. 

The  conflict  was  violent  and  lasted  long,  even {  until 
the  breaking  of  the  day.'  The  longer  it  lasted  the 
more  profound  were  the  views  which  the  struggling 
patriarch  received  of  his  corruption,  and  the  grounds  of 
his  faith.  The  longer  it  lasted,  the  humbler  and 
weaker  he  became,  the  more  compelled  to  build  every 
thing  on  mere  mercy,  and  entirely  despair  of  himself  : 
to  which  a  circumstance — the  dislocating  of  his  hip, 
which  we  shall  afterwards  consider — greatly  contribut- 
ed. For  the  present,  we  will  break  off,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  taking  an  early  opportunity  of  considering  the 
result. 

My  hearers  will  doubtless  have  already  been  able  to 
make  their  observations  and  useful  application  of  the 
subject.  The  chiefest  of  these  is,  See  to  it,  that  you 
build  the  house  of  your  hope  upon  the  rock,  that  it 
may  stand  firm  when  assaulted.  So  much  is  certain, 
that  Jacob  hazarded  too  much,  when  at  his  mother's 
words,  *  the  curse  be  upon  me,'  he  exposed  himself  to 
the  danger.  He  ought  to  have  had  very  different 
reasons  for  so  doing.  Rebecca,  indeed,  was  certain  of 
her  cause  ;  but  this  was  not  sufficient  for  her  son  :  Do 


24  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

not  mimic  others,  nor  rejoice  in  the  light  of  another. 
It  is  in  ourselves  that  we  must  be  regenerated,  experi- 
ence Divine  influence,  and  be  sealed  with  the  Spirit  of 
promise,  for  godliness  does  not  consist  in  words,  but  in 
power. 

May  those  that  are  inwardly  assaulted,  also  learn  from 
Jacob's  conflict,  an  appropriate  demeanor  in  the  attacks 
upon  their  confidence  and  their  hope.  Expect  them, 
but  do  not  flee  from  them ;  at  least  no  where  but  to 
Jesus  !  Ask  boldly,  even  when  it  seems  as  if  he  would 
drive  you  from  the  place.  Lay  hold  of  the  promises  ; 
strive  with  them  against  the  threatenings  ;  weep  and 
supplicate,  even  though  he  seem  to  be  himself  opposed 
to  you.  May  he  strengthen  us  for  this  purpose  !  Amen. 


SERMON  II. 

GENESIS  XXXII.  25. 

And  when  he  saw  that  he  prevailed  not  against  him,  he  touched 
the  hollow  of  his  thigh;  and  the  hollow  of  Jacob's  thigh 
teas  out  of  joint  as  he  wrestled  with  him. 

( I  KNOW,  O  Lord,  that  thy  judgments  are  right,  and 
that  thou  in  faithfulness  hast  afflicted  me.'  This  con- 
fession is  made  by  the  writer  of  the  cxixth  Psalm,  in  the 
seventy-fifth  verse.  In  the  sixty-seventh,  he  had  said, 
*  Before  I  was  afflicted  I  went  astray ;  but  now  have  I 
kept  thy  word.'  The  word  afflicted  implies  being 
distressed,  agonized,  rendered  poor  and  wretched,  in 
consequence  of  which  the  individual  is  deprived  of  all 
presumption  and  boldness,  and  feels  humble  and  abased. 
That  which  produced  this  effect  upon  the  Psalmist,  he 
calls  the  judgments  of  the  Lord — that  is,  siftings  and 
trials,  which,  though  painful  to  the  feelings,  are  saluta- 
ry in  their  results,  and  he  ascribes  these  afflictive  events 
to  the  Lord  ;  since,  without  his  will,  not  a  hair  can  fall 
from  our  heads.  He  calls  them  right  or  just,  and  is 
therefore  far  from  believing  any  wrong  has  been  done 
him ;  on  the  contrary  he  thinks  there  is  sufficient  rea- 
son existing  for  his  being  thus  afflicted.  He  ackriow- 
ledges,  that  it  is  in  faithfulness  that  the  Lord  has 
afflicted  him,  in  order  that  he  might  fulfil  his  promises 
3* 


26  THE  WRESTLING  OF   JACOB. 

in  him — not  in  wrath  for  the  purpose  of  destroying 
him,  which  he  probably  apprehended  when  under  the 
pressure ;  in  faithfulness,  that  thus  he  might  bestow 
upon  him  the  most  glorious  blessings;  although  it 
seemed  to  him  at  the  time  that  he  was  being  led  to  de- 
struction 5  in  faithfulness,  in  order  to  heal  him  of  his 
many  infirmities;  whilst  his  iniquities  pressed  hard 
upon  him,  and  unrighteousness  seemed  to  have  increas- 
ingly the  upper  hand  of  him ;  in  faithfulness,  since  he 
secretly  held  him  fast  and  supported  him ;  for  though 
the  Lord  lays  a  burthen  upon  us,  he  also  helps  us  to 
bear  it ;  whilst  he  at  one  tune  thought  the  Lord  was 
no  longer  his  help ;  but  then  again  perceived  the  hand 
of  the  Most  High  ;  in  faithfulness,  as  long  as  it  was 
needful  to  abase  him,  however  much  he  might  pray, 
cry,  sigh,  and  complain  against  it,  and  say,  '  Is  thy 
mercy  clean  gone  for  ever  ¥  but  not  a  moment  longer 
d,id  the  time  of  suffering  last,  and  then  appeared  his 
powerful  aid.  The  Lord  afflicted  him  in  faithfulness 
to  the  degree  which  was  requisite,  so  that  he .  went 
bowed  down,  and  bent  beneath  it,  and  the  burden  con- 
tinued to  increase  until  it  became  too  heavy  to  be 
borne ;  but  that  very  moment  it  was  changed  in  such  a 
wonderful  manner,  that  it  might  be  said,  f  Who  re- 
deemeth  thy  life  from  destruction,  who  crowneth  thee 
with  loving-kindness  and  tender  mercy ;'  whilst  even 
under  his  burden  he  also  thought  he  should  yet  praise 
him  ;  faithful  in  attacking  him  just  on  that  side  where 
it  certainly  pained  him  the  most,  but  where  it  was  also 
the  most  necessary ;  although  he  might  probably  think, 
Ah,  if  it  were  only  any  thing  else  but  that ;  and  yet 


SERMON  II.  27 

just  that  was  requisite  for  him,  whilst  something  differ- 
ent was  required  for  other  patients.  In  short,  it  is  in 
faithfulness  that  God  afflicts  and  humbles  his  children. 
Formerly  they  went  astray,  and  with  the  best  will  and 
intention,  began  the  work  improperly ;  but  their  con- 
duct is  now  conformable  to  the  rule  of  the  word.  Cer- 
tainly, he  that  has  already  passed  through  the  furnace, 
may  boast  and  declare  the  judgments  of  the  Lord  to  be 
right.  Let  us  be  satisfied  that  we  have  an  unspeakably 
faithful  Lord  and  Master ;  and  may  this  also  become 
more  apparent  to  us  from  the  meditation  we  are  at 
present  about  to  resume  on  the  subject. 

We  proceed  with  the  consideration  of  Jacob's  con- 
flict, and  its  results ;  after  having,  on  a  former  occasion, 
made  ourselves  somewhat  more  acquainted  with  the 
two  combatants. 

'  When  the  Son  of  God  saw  that  he  could  not  pre- 
vail over  him' — such  is  the  continuation  of  the  won- 
derful narrative — victory  declared  itself  for  Jacob,  and 
the  Son  of  God  is  obliged  to  yield  !  Nor  is  this  any 
wonder,  since  he  had  bound  his  own  hands  by  the  pro- 
mise, *  I  will  do  thee  good  ;'  and  thereby  pointed  out 
to  his  Omnipotence  the  direction  it  ought  to  take.  It 
was  able  to  clear  away  those  things  which  were  a  hin- 
drance to  Jacob,  but  not  to  accelerate  his  destruction  ; 
it  was  able  to  pour  out  benefits  upon  him,  but  not  to 
divest  him  of  them.  Omnipotence  is  the  minister  of 
Divine  truth,  and  could  do  nothing  against,  but  every 
thing  for  the  truth.  It  could  have  rent  heaven  and 
earth  asunder ;  but  it  was  under  the  necessity  of  pre- 
serving Jacob  unconsumed.  Omnipotence  is  a  Divine 


28  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

attribute,  the  exercise  of  which  depends  upon  the  will 
of  God,  who  can  therefore  exert  or  restrain  it  at  his 
pleasure.  But  with  his  truth  the  case  is  different ;  for 
it  is  a  constituent  part  of  his  being,  and  it  is  impossible 
for  him  to  act  contrary  to  it,  or  he  would  cease  to  be 
Jehovah — that  is,  to  be  what  he  is.  He  has  often  en- 
tirely renounced  his  Omnipotence ;  so  that  nothing  but 
weakness  was  visible  in  him.  Where  was  his  Omnipo- 
tence, when  he  fled  into  Egypt  before  the  face  of 
Herod  ?  What — is  this  the  man  who  intends  to  save 
his  people  1  Is  this  he  who  is  to  overcome  the  strong 
man  armed,  and  bind  him  1  Is  this  the  child  who  is 
the  mighty  God  ?  Where  was  his  Omnipotence,  when 
he  was  bound,  and  nailed  hand  and  foot  to  the  cross, 
and  when  he  was  laid  in  the  sepulchre  ?  He  still  in- 
deed possessed  it ;  but  he  restrained  it  for  the  truth's 
sake,  as  he  himself  says,  that  the  Scriptures  might  be 
fulfilled.  There  was  a  necessity  for  it ;  for  Omnipo- 
tence cannot  be  exercised  against  the  truth,  since  God 
is  willing  to  employ  it  only  in  favor  of  the  truth.  He 
had  said  of  his  sheep,  '  No  man  shall  pluck  them  out 
of  my  hands ;'  the  power  of  God  was  therefore  obliged 
to  be  immediately  exerted,  when  it  seemed  as  if  Jesus's 
assertion  was  about  to  be  put  to  shame  in  the  case  of 
Peter,  who  denied  his  Master  even  with  oaths  and 
curses ;  the  Lord  then  turned  and  looked  at  Peter,  and 
regarded  Satan,  who  was  sifting  him,Vith  an  omnipo- 
tent look :  Omnipotence  then  became  the  servant  of 
truth. 

No  one  comprehended  better  than  Abraham,  Jacob's 
grandfather,  what   he  possessed  in  Divine  truth,  and 


SERMON  n.  29 

what  he  might  risk  and  expect,  when  he  had  the  word 
of  God  on  his  side.  A  posterity  had  been  promised  to 
him  in  Isaac,  which  should  be  blessed  and  made  a  bless- 
ing. Yet  him  he  was  commanded  to  sacrifice.  He 
boldly  seized  the  knife,  most  firmly  convinced,  that 
God  must  keep  his  word,  because  he  was  able  to  do  so; 
and  thus  he  expected  that  his  Omnipotence  would  min- 
ister to  his  truth,  and  that  Isaac,  though  slain  and  burnt 
to  ashes,  would  be  raised  from  the  dead,  sooner  than 
that  God  would  suffer  himself  to  be  made  a  liar,  for  that 
was  impossible ;  but  otherwise  every  thing  was  possi- 
ble with  God,  and  through  him,  to  him  that  believeth. 

Jacob  understood  this  also.  The  Lord  had  promised 
him,  saying,  '  I  will  do  thee  good.'  Hence  his  Omni- 
potence could  only  be  exercised  towards  him  in  so  far 
as  it  was  in  accordance  with  this  promise ;  and  because 
ne  adnered  iu  it,  the  Almighty  was  unable  tu  expel 
him  from  the  place,  but  succumbed  in  the  conflict. 

Where  is  there  a  God  like  unto  him,  and  how  does 
Eternal  Wisdom  sport  with  his  children !  We  may 
well  pray  with  David  (Psalm  cxix.  38),  '  Stablish  thy 
word  unto  thy  servant.'  We  should  then  see  the  glory 
of  God,  and  find  in  it  a  consolation  which  does  not  suf- 
fer us  to  perish  in  our  misery.  Has  he  not  promised 
us  every  thing  requisite  for  our  salvation,  joy,  and  pros- 
perity 1  And  is  it  not  made  doubly  sure  to  us  by  letter 
and  seal,  by  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper  ?  What 
more  can  we  desire  ?  Will  he  not  forgive  transgression 
and  sin  ?  Why  do  we  therefore  suffer  anxious  fears  to 
perplex  us  ?  The  devil,  and  our  own  deceitful  hearts, 
may  murmur  against  it  as  much  as  they  please.  Will 


30  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

he  not  give  us  a  new  heart,  and  make  such  people  of 
us,  as  shall  walk  in  his  commandments,  keep  his  sta- 
tutes, and  do  according  to  them  ?  And  yet  we  are 
foolish  enough  to  fear  that  we  shall  be  obliged  to  re- 
tain our  depraved  hearts,  because  we  cannot  change 
them  ourselves.  Christ  himself  has  engaged  to  be 
made  unto  us  wisdom ;  can  it  be  possible,  therefore, 
that  we  should  always  continue  foolish?  He  has  un- 
dertaken our  sanctification,  and  can  we  continue  im- 
pure 1  In  reality,  we  ought  justly  to  feel  much  asto- 
nished at  not  being  perfect  saints :  for  what  is  the  rea- 
son that  we  are  not  so  ?  I  think  the  chief  cause  of  it 
lies  in  this,  that  we  are  too  proud  and  self-righteous  to 
expect  every  thing  from  pure  grace,  and  for  the  sake  of 
the  word  and  promise  of  God ;  and  are  still  desirous  of 
accomplishing  too  much  of  ourselves,  and  of  becoming 
too  much  in  ourselves.  Does  not  the  iru«  a-iid  laitniul 
Word  tell  us  that  the  Lord  careth  for  us,  and  enjoin  us 
to  cast  all  our  care  upon  him  1  But  who  believes  this 
cheering  truth  1  He  that  does  so,  finds  rest  and  peace 
and  refreshment  when  he  is  weary.  But  almost  all  re- 
fuse to  listen  to  it,  and  care  for  themselves  instead  of 
believing.  Hence  they  experience  so  little  of  the  glory 
of  God,  and  torment  themselves  in  vain  with  a  burden 
which  they  have  not  strength  to  bear.  We  think  it 
rational  to  trust  to  the  creature,  but  absurd  to  hope  in 
the  living  Creator.  O  what  fools  we  are  to  act  thus, 
seeing  that  we  cannot  change  a  single  hair  white  or 
black !  How  happy  we  might  be  did  we  believe  the 
words,  <  He  careth  for  you ;'  therefore  cast  all  your 
care  upon  him,  both  externally  and  internally.  Were 


SERMON  II.  31 

we  at  the  same  time  humble,  docile,  and  sufficiently  re- 
signed to  his  will,  Jesus  would  not  then  put  us  to  the 
blush  by  the  example  of  the  birds ;  but,  like  the  lark  in 
the  storm,  we  should  sing  hymns  of  praise  in  the  midst 
of  difficulties ;  in  short,  in  quietness  and  confidence 
would  be  our  strength,  and  by  returning  and  rest  we 
should  be  saved.  And  is  not  his  written  word,  whose 
minister  and  performer  is  Omnipotence,  entirely  of  such 
a  nature  as  to  render  us  perfectly  tranquil  and  easy  ? 
(  For  though  the  mountains  may  depart,  and  the  hills 
be  removed :  yet  my  kindness  shall  not  depart  from 
thee,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace  be  remov- 
ed, saith  the  Lord,  that  hath  mercy  on  thee.' 

But  are  not  the  justice  and  holiness  of  God,  such  at- 
tributes as  ought  reasonably  to  render  us  timid  in  ap- 
plying his  promises  to  us  ;  and  will  not  the  considera- 
tion that  we  are  sinners,  make  a  great  alteration  in  the 
matter  ?  If  Jacob  had  thought  thus,  and  acted  accord- 
ingly, he  would  soon  have  fled  from  the  scene  of  con- 
flict ;  for  what  else  was  he  but  a  sinner ;  and  if  he  were 
otherwise,  how  did  he  become  so — of  himself  or  by  the 
favor  of  him  that  called  him?  'Even  before  the 
twins  were  born,'  says  Paul,  '  or  had  done  either  good 
or  evil,'  in  order  that  the  purpose  of  God  according  to 
election  might  stand,  not  of  works,  but  of  him  that 
calleth,  it  was  said  to  Rebecca  '  The  elder  shall  serve 
the  younger.'  It  is  true  we  are  sinners,  but  Jesus  is 
come  to  save  sinners ;  hence  our  right  to  the  Savior 
increases — if  I  may  so  speak — in  the  degree  in  which 
we  become  conscious  of  our  sinfulness.  We  ought  also 
to  know,  that  God  did  not  give  Canaan  to  the  people 


32  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

of  Israel  for  the  sake  of  their  righteousness — for  I  know, 
says  he,  that  thou  art  a  stiff-necked  and  rebellious  peo- 
ple— and  likewise  that  his  promises  are  founded  on  free 
grace,  and  on  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  If  any  one 
were  to  imagine  that  he  had  claims  upon  the  Divine 
promises  because  of  his  good  qualities  and  his  good  con- 
duct, he  would  greatly  deceive  himself,  and  obtain  little 
or  nothing,  because  he  did  not  understand  how  to  buy 
without  money.  God  knows  what  miserable  sinners 
we  are,  much  better  than  we  do ;  and  has  so  marked 
and  designated  us  in  his  book,  that  it  is  difficult  to  think 
more  highly  of  ourselves  than  we  ought,  according  to 
the  description  there  given.  But  notwithstanding  this, 
he  has,  to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of  his  grace,  vouch- 
safed the  greatest  and  most  precious  promises  to  these 
very  characters^  and  Christ,  by  his  obedience,  suffer- 
ings, and  death,  has  sufficiently  provided  for  the  mani- 
festation of  Divine  grace  towards  us,  without  any  oppo- 
sition from  Divine  justice  and  holiness.  Grace,  so  to 
speak,  is  older  than  justice.  The  tree  of  life  also  is 
mentioned  before  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil,  with  the  threatening  attached  to  it.  The  promise, 
according  to  the  doctrine  of  Paul  (Gal.  iii.  17),  is  at 
least  four  hundred  and  thirty  years  older  than  the  law, 
which  revealed  the  righteousness  and  holiness  of  God, 
but  which  detracts  as  little  from  his  promised  grace,  as 
a  legal  testament  among  men,  which  is  in  force  on  the 
death  of  the  testator,  can  afterwards  be  set  aside :  and 
'  this  testament,'  says  the  Apostle,  '  that  was  confirm- 
ed before  of  God  in  Christ,  cannot  disannul,  that  it 
should  make  the  promise  of  none  effect.'  We  have 


SERMON   II.  33 

therefore  not  to  do  with  the  law,  which  says, f  Do  this !' 
but  with  the  Gospel,  which  says,  <  Ask  of  me ;  I  will 
give  thee.'  If  the  Ethiopian  nobleman  could  say, 
'  What  doth  hinder  me  to  be  baptized  ?' — we  ought 
reasonably  to  say,  "  What  hinders  my  mind  from  the 
free  exercise  of  faith  and  confidence,  and  from  regard- 
ing itself  in  no  other  light,  than  as  if  every  thing  were 
already  overcome,  as  if  we  were  already  in  heaven,  see- 
ing that  when  we  have  once  entered  into  the  conflict 
of  faith,  and  persevere  in  it,  there  is  nothing  to  hinder 
us  from  obtaining  the  crown  of  life.  For  believers  are 
kept  by  the  power  of  God  through  faith  unto  salvation. 
Oh,  if  we  only  understood  aright  what  belonged  to  our 
peace,  we  would  rejoice  from  gladness  of  heart,  and  the 
wicked  one  be  unable  to  touch  us  !"  Jacob  understood 
it  excellently — so  excellently  that  he  prevailed,  even 
when  the  Almighty  himself  entered  into  conflict  with 
him,  but  not  before  he  had  bound  his  own  hands  with 
the  strong  cords  of  love,  and  the  firm  bands  of  his  faith- 
ful promises ;  for  his  omnipotence  took  the  part  of  his 
antagonist,  in  order  to  bring  him  successfully  through 
every  trial.  O  certainly,  all  things  are  possible  to  him 
that  believeth !  and  assuredly  if  thou  believest,  thou 
shalt  see  the  glory  of  God.  If  thou  hast  but  one  pro- 
mise on  thy  side,  thy  glorious  victory  is  rendered  quite 
certain ;  even  if  it  should  seem  as  impossible  as  the  re- 
storing of  Lazarus  to  his  sisters,  after  being  dead  four 
days,  and  having  become  a  prey  to  corruption. 

Thus  did  Jacob  act  like  a  prince,  even  as  God  boasts 
of  him  by  the  prophet  Hosea :  just  as  it  becomes  a 
spiritual   king,   who  does  not   cease  to  fight  till  the 
4 


34  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

victory  is  decided.  But  what  occurs  ?  *  When  he 
saw  that  he  prevailed  not  against  him/  it  is  said,  c  he 
touched  the  hollow  of  his  thigh,  and  the  hollow  of 
Jacob's  thigh  was  out  of  joint  as  he  wrestled  with  him.' 
This  was  a  new  wonder ;  and  was  a  remarkable  one, 
for  it  is  mentioned  twice.  The  cause  of  the  dislocation 
is  stated  in  the  words,  i  He  touched  the  hollow  of  his 
thigh,'  and  whilst  depriving  Jacob  of  all  power  to 
continue  the  combat,  he  proved  his  entire  superiority, 
but  at  the  same  time  added  that  which  was  incompre- 
hensible, to  that  which  was  wonderful,  by  declaring 
himself,  notwithstanding,  to  be  vanquished,  when  he 
said  to  the  Patriarch, (  Let  me  go.' 

The  hip,  is,  so  to  speak,  the  foundation  of  the  edifice 
of  our  body.  If  dislocated,  the  body  falls  down.  A 
dislocation  of  the  hip  is  an  extremely  rare  case,  only 
practicable  to  astonishing  strength  ;  and  almost  incon- 
ceivable in  the  position  which  a  person  must  assume 
in  wrestling  with  another,  who  is  seeking  to  drive  him 
from  his  place,  as  was  the  case  with  Jacob.  But  if  it 
occurs,  and  takes  place  by  means  of  a  mere  touch,  as 
in  the  present  instance,  it  is  a  singular  wonder.  Such 
a  dislocation  is  naturally  attended  with  very  violent 
pain.  Whether  the  Son  of  God  caused  Jacob  to  expe- 
rience the  latter  also,  we  know  not ;  it  depended  upon 
his  will,  and  the  effect  was  in  every  case  the  same. 
The  good  man  could  wrestle  no  longer;  nothing 
therefore  was  left  him  but  to  hold  fast  to  his  opponent 
by  his  arms,  to  cleave  to  him  with  all  his  might ;  and 
this  he  did  likewise  in  such  a  manner,  that  his  opponent 
could  not  remove  from  the  place  without  dragging  him 


SERMON  II.  35 

along  with  him ;  hence  it  was  that  he  said,  *  Let  me 
go.'  But  Jacob  could  no  longer  either  stand  or  go ; 
much  less  continue  to  wrestle  ;  he  was  compelled  to  let 
himself  be  carried  ;  and  to  this  he  was  forced  by  the 
Son  of  God  himself,  who  deprived  him  of  all  his 
strength,  and  left  him  no  alternative  but  to  hang  upon 
his  neck  if  he  wished  to  be  preserved  from  falling. 
But  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  Why  did  the  Son 
of  God  put  his  hip  out  "of  joint,  and  perhaps  cause  him 
violent  pain  by  so  doing  ?  What  was  the  object,  the 
intention,  the  reason  ? 

First  of  all,  we  must  know  that  God,  by  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  has  replied  to  Jacob's  inquiry  of  his  antagonist, 
'  What  is  thy  name  ?'  when  he  says,  '  His  name  shall 
be  called  Wonderful.'  There  is  doubtless  'as  much 
humility  as  wisdom,  whilst  inquiring  why  God  acts  in 
this  or  that  particular  manner,  if  we  can  perfectly  satisfy 
ourselves  with  the  reply,  Because  it  pleases  him  to  act 
thus;  for  in  the  sequel,  we  shall  probably  receive 
satisfactory  light  upon  the  subject.  In  his  method  of 
government,  much  that  is  incomprehensible  occurs,  and 
we  must  learn  to  humble  ourselves  under  his  mighty 
hand  ;  he  will  then  exalt  us  in  due  time.  So  long  as 
Job  continued  to  say, '  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord 
hath  taken  away  ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  !' 
it  is  said,  *  In  all  this  Job  sinned  not.'  But  when  he 
afterwards  disputed  with  his  friends  upon  the  cause  and 
intent  of  what  had  befallen  him,  they  fell  into  a  degree 
of  confusion,  from  which  they  were  unable  to  extricate 
themselves.  Job  wished  to  accuse  God  of  injustice  ; 
his  friends,  to  charge  him  with  ungodliness ;  and  both 


36  THE  WRESTLING    OF  JACOB. 

were  in  the  wrong.  At  length  God  himself  interfered, 
and  said,  <  If  thou  art  so  wise  as  to  be  able  to  fathom 
everything,  gird  up  now  thy  loins  like  a  man,  for  I  will 
demand  of  thee,  and  answer  thou  me.'  On  which  Job 
however  reversed  the  matter,  and  said, '  I  have  uttered 
that  I  understood  not ;  things  too  wonderful  for  me, 
which  I  knew  not.  Hear,  I  beseech  thee,  and  I  will 
speak ;  I  will  demand  of  thee,  and  declare  thou  unto 
me.'  It  was  then  said, 6  My  servant  Job  hath  spoken 
right  concerning  me.' 

If  Abraham  had  been  desirous  of  ascertaining  first  of 
all  the  object  and  intention  of  offering  up  his  son  Isaac, 
he  would  have  frustrated  them  ;  but  he  believed  that 
God  could  do  nothing  but  what  was  in  accordance  with 
his  word,  and  thus  he  ascended  Mount  Moriah,  and 
obtained  the  high  commendation  expressed  in  the 
words, c  Now  I  know  that  thou  fearest  God.' 

When  Christ  began  to  wash  the  feet  of  his  disciples, 
Peter  wished  first  of  all  to  know  the  intention  of  this 
act,  before  he  would  consent  to  give  up  his  feet  for  that 
purpose ;  but  he  was  told, '  What  I  do  thou  knowest 
not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know  hereafter  ;'  and  when 
this  proved  unavailing,  the  Lord  said,  ( If  I  wash  thee 
not,  thou  hast  no  part  in  me.' 

e  My  sheep  follow  me,'  says  Christ ;  but  he  not 
unfrequently  leads  them  in  such  a  manner,  as  if  he 
were  not  a  shepherd,,  but  was  only  conducting  them  to 
the  butchery.  Are  these  the  people  of  God,  it  might 
be  asked,  who  appear  only  to  exist  in  order  to  be  per- 
secuted, slain,  torn  by  dogs  and  wild  beasts,  and  cover- 
ed with  pitch  to  illuminate  the  streets  of  Rome  with  the 


SERMON  n.  37 

slow  flame  ?  But  they  counted  not  their  li ves  too  dear 
to  them,  and  are  destined  to  shine  in  heaven  as  the  stars 
for  ever  and  ever.  The  Lord  of  his  people  wears,  in- 
stead of  a  golden  coronet,  a  crown  of  thorns  ;  instead 
of  a  sceptre,  a  weak  reed ;  and  hangs  on  a  cross,  in- 
stead of  sitting  upon  a  throne.  What  a  Lord  !  what  a 
people ! 

True  it  is,  that  the  preaching  of  such  things  seems 
foolishness,  and  that  the  natural  man  becomes  quite 
foolish  in  consequence  of  it.  But  do  thou  only  believe ; 
wait  for  the  Lord  in  the  way  of  his  judgments ;  the 
end  of  it  all  will  be  glorious — a  glory  which  no  eye 
hath  seen,  no  ear  heard,  and  which  has  never  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man.  His  name  is  '  Wonderful ;' 
and  he  is  so  in  his  works  and  guidance.  Even  if  we 
were  unable  to  discover  any  wisdom  in  his  conduct  to- 
wards Jacob,  yet  we  ought  still  to  believe,  that  he  acted 
thus  towards  him  for  very  wise  and  salutary  reasons, 
although  it  may  not  have  pleased  him  to  reveal  any 
thing  to  us  respecting  them. 

It  is,  however,  not  difficult  to  discover  some  of  the 
salutary  intentions  of  such  a  procedure.  The  chief  of 
them  is  this :  that  when  God  suffers  us  to  become  con- 
scious, by  inward  experience,  that  we  have  no  right- 
eousness of  our  own,  and  that  we  are  unable  to  acquire 
any :  that  by  our  own  wisdom  we  cannot  accomplish 
any  thing :  and  that  when  he  thus  humbles  us,  it  is  a 
a  path  by  which  he  conducts  all  his  children,  although 
the  means  are  various  by  which  he  attains  this  end. 
These  paths  are  painful  to  the  old  man,  even  as  the 
4* 


38  THE  WRESTLING  OF   JACOB. 

dislocation  of  his  hip  was  to  Jacob ;  but  the  pain  is 
richly  compensated  by  the  fruits  which  follow. 

At  first  we  form  to  ourselves  strange  and  unfounded 
ideas  of  religion.  We  imagine  such  a  growth  in  it  as 
we  perceive  in  children,  who  have  gradually  less  need 
of  their  mother's  care  and  attention,  until  they  can  at 
length  entirely  do  without  it.  But  Christ  prefers  com- 
paring his  people  to  the  branches  of  the  vine,  which 
never  bring  forth  fruit  of  themselves,  but  solely  by  their 
abiding  in  the  vine.  In  like  manner,  says  he,  '  Ye 
cannot  bring  forth  fruit  of  yourselves,  except  ye  abide 
in  me ;  for  without  me  ye  can  do  nothing.'  The  ideas 
we  form  of  religion  at  the  commencement,  correspond 
little  with  this  figure.  We  think  of  aged  Christians, 
that  they  are  far  advanced ;  and  they  may  have  really 
advanced  as  far  as  Jacob,  who  could  no  longer  stand 
nor  go  of  himself,  much  less  wrestle,  and  who  had  no 
alternative  but  to  cling  to  the  Son  of  God,  that  he 
might  be  sustained  by  him,  or  according  to  the  expres- 
sion of  the  Apostle,  To  live  in  the  faith  of  the  Son  of 
God,  who  loved  us,  and  gave  himself  for  us.  When 
they  are  weak  he  is  their  strength  :  they  have  nothing, 
and  yet  possess  all  things ;  are  unable  of  themselves,  even 
to  think  anything  good,  and  yet  are  able  to  do  all  things ; 
and  many  more  such  singular  descriptions  of  the  in- 
ward life,  which  may  justly  be  called  a  continual  riddle, 
which  cannot  be  solved  without  personal  experience. 

Real  growth,  which  must  certainly  take  place  in 
every  real  Christian,  does  not  consist  in  an  increasing 
facility  in  the  performance  of  religious  duties  in  and  by 
ourselves  ;  but  it  is  rather  an  increase  in  grace  and  in 


SERMON  II.  39 

the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ ;  an  increasing  facility  in 
making  use  of  Christ  in  the  manner  in  which  he  is 
made  and  given  unto  us  of  God,  and  this  can  naturally 
be  learnt  in  no  other  manner  than  by  the  destruction  of 
our  own  wisdom,  righteousness,  sanctification,  and  re- 
demption, by  which  we  decrease,  but  Christ  increases. 

The  hip,  if  I  may  so  speak,  on  which  the  whole  body 
of  a  natural  godliness  rests,  the  foundation  that  supports 
it,  is  nothing  else  than  confidence  in  ourselves.  Hence 
the  upright  are  proud  of  their  uprightness,  and  have 
reason  to  be  so,  because  it  is  a  consequence  of  their  dili- 
gence ;  they  are  indebted  for  it  to  their  discernment, 
their  own  reflection,  or  to  the  understanding  which 
they  possess,  and  their  commendable  conduct  is  the  re- 
sult of  the  good  resolutions  they  formed,  and  which 
they  were  strong  enough  to  carry  into  effect.  The 
noise  which  is  made  about  human  inability,  they  re- 
gard as  idle  talk,  by  which  nothing  else  is  demonstrated 
than  the  individual's  own  slothfulness ;  or  else  they  look 
upon  it  as  an  artifice,  designed  to  cover  his  worthless- 
ness,  and  to  enable  him  to  reject,  in  a  hypocritical  man- 
ner, a  strictly  moral  deportment ;  and  the  appealing  to 
grace  is,  in  their  eyes,  little  more  than  blaming  God 
because  we  are  not  better  than  we  are.  Both,  in  their 
opinion,  are  equally  abominable ;  and  they  thank  God 
that  they  are  not  enthusiasts  and  nominal  Christians, 
like  these  people.  These  are  the  strong  who  need  not 
a  Physician. 

Natural  men,  who  lead  an  ungodly  life,  and  there- 
fore cannot  appeal  to  their  virtues,  always  excuse  them- 
selves, because  they  have  not  committed  this  or  that 


40  THE  WRESTLING  OF   JACOB. 

particular  sin,  or  else  deceive  themselves  with  the  idea 
that  when  once  they  find  it  necessary  to  amend,  they 
shall  soon  be  able  to  accomplish  it ;  but  that  there  is 
still  time  enough  for  such  a  purpose.  With  that  real 
religion,  to  which  they  will  not  concede  the  appellation, 
both  of  these  classes  refuse  to  have  any  thing  to  do, 
but  are  opposed  to  it,  since  the  greatest  part  of  it  ap- 
pears to  them  extremely  irrational  and  absurd,  so  that 
a  sensible  man  has  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  it.  They 
rely  upon  their  own  understanding  and  their  own 
strength,  and  do  not  comprehend  upon  what  a  person  can 
otherwise  depend.  But  let  them  go ;  for  they  are  blind ! 
When  the  Lord,  however,  begins  to  wrestle  with  a 
soul — by  which  we  mean,  when  he  begins  his  work  of 
grace  in  a  man — he  struggles  with  him  in  such  a  man- 
ner, that  to  a  certainty,  either  earlier  or  later,  the  hip 
will  be  dislocated,  and  so  put  out  of  joint,  that  no  other 
choice  will  be  left  him  than  that  which  was  left  Jacob 
— that  of  embracing  with  the  arms  of  faith  the  Son  of 
God ;  there  will  be  no  alternative  but  to  let  himself  be 
borne  and  carried  by  him.  By  degrees  he  is  entirely 
brought  off  from  from  his  previous  method  of  existing 
and  acting,  and  conducted  into  a  path,  of  which  he 
must  himself  confess  that  flesh  and  blood  have  not  re- 
vealed it  to  him  ;  that  he  has  not  learned  it  from  books, 
from  sermons,  from  other  men,  or  from  his  own  wis- 
dom ;  but  that  wondrous  grace  first  reduced  him  to  the 
state  of  a  little  'child,  and  then  began  to  reveal  to  him 
the  mystery  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  He  now  learns  to 
believe  from  the  heart  those  passages  of  Scripture, 
where  it  is  said,  '  Not  of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him 


SERMON  II.  41 

that  runneth,  but  of  God  that  sheweth  mercy ;'  and 
others  of  a  similar  nature,  which  had  secretly  given 
him  offence  before,  but  which  now  become  wisdom  it- 
self to  him.  He  now  experiences  how  much  reason 
Peter  had  to  call  the  light,  to  which  the  chosen  genera- 
tion is  called  out  of  darkness,  '  a  marvellous  light.' 

We  could  still  say  much  in  pointing  out  how  the 
Lord,  in  repentance,  commences  the  destruction  of  the 
false  ground  of  self-confidence,  and  then  carries  it  on 
and  completes  it  by  a  variety  of  trials,  and  in  a  very 
strange  manner,  until  the  sinner,  stripped  of  every- 
thing, casts  himself  into  the  arms  of  his  blessed  Lord  and 
Savior.  But  we  break  off,  and  leave  the  subject  to  a 
future  opportunity. 

We  only  ask,  in  conclusion,  What  becomes  of  our 
wisdom  according  to  the  wisdom  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, wThich,  as  the  way  to  wisdom,  directs  that  we 
should  become  fools  according  to  the  maxims  of  the 
world,  and  affirms,  that  he  who  thinks  he  knows  any 
thing,  knows  yet  nothing  as  he  ought  ?  What  be- 
comes of  our  strength,  when  Christ  is  only  mighty  in  the 
weak,  and  we  without  him  can  do  nothing  ?  What  be- 
comes of  our  righteousness,  since  we  are  all  declared 
to  be  unrighteous,  and  that  there  is  no  difference 
amongst  us,  except  what  is  made  by -the  grace  of  God,? 
What  becomes  of  our  labor  and  efforts,  since  we  are 
saved  by  grace  ?  Lord,  open  our  eyes,  that  we  may 
behold  wondrous  things  out  of  thy  law  ! 


SERMON  III. 


INTRODUCTION. 

IT  is  evident,  especially  from  Matt.  xiv.  36,  what  a 
salutary  and  healing  power  Jesus  must  have  possessed. 
He  came  into  the  land  of  Gennesaret.  Scarcely  had 
he  left  the  vessel  and  stepped  on  shore,  than  he  was 
immediately  recognized.  The  people  of  that  place  sent 
out  into  all  the  country  round  about,  in  order  to  make 
it  every  where  known.  A  number  of  sick  persons  from 
far  and  near,  who  labored  under  a  variety  of  diseases, 
were  brought  to  him,  and  they  besought  him  that  they 
might  only  touch  the  hem  of  his  garment :  and  as  many 
as  touched  it  were  made  whole,  whatever  might  have 
been  their  complaint. 

"  How  much  it  is  to  be  regretted,"  might  some  one 
think,  "  that  Jesus  is  no  longer  upon  earth !"  But 
wherefore  ?  If  he  could  heal  the  sick,  even  at  a  dis- 
tance from  them,  he  must  still  be  able  to  do  so  now 
that  he  is  ascended  up  on  high.  And  it  would  be  high- 
ly derogatory  to  him  to  pretend,  that  Jesus  is  now  so 
shut  up  in  heaven,  that  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  expe- 
rience, or  become  conscious  of  anything  more  of  him  > 
since  he  has  said,  £  Lo,  I  am  with  you  always,  even  to 
the  end  of  the  world  !'  But  it  would  also  be  a  matter 
of  regret,  if  we  had  such  an  abundance  of  temporal 
things  as  to  render  Jesus  indifferent  to  us,  because  he 


SERMON    HI.  43 

no  longer  heals  our  bodily  diseases,  except  through  a 
medium.  We  all  require  his  medical  aid,  his  healing 
power,  in  a  more  important  sense  than  the  people  of 
Gennesaret  experienced  it — I  mean  with  respect  to  our 
souls,  whose  disease  is  called  sin  ;  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  which,  is  death,  eternal  death.  Of  this  we 
must  necessarily  be  healed  ;  and  may  be  so,  although 
we  cannot,  and  ought  not,  to  accomplish  it  as  of  our- 
selves. Jesus  is  also  our  physician,  and  so  full  of  heal- 
ing power,  that  he  is  at  the  same  time  the  medicine. 
If  we  wish  to  be  healed,  we  must  at  least  touch  the 
hem  of  his  garment.  *  Thou  art  clothed  with  light,' 
says  David,  'and  art  very  glorious.'  The  glory  of 
Jesus  Christ  is  a  perfect  glory.  The  skirt  of  his  gar- 
ment is  his  meekness  and  humility,  which  fit  him  to  be 
the  physician  of  such  diseased  creatures  as  we.  His 
invitations  and  promises  are  the  hem  which  we  ought 
to  touch.  It  is  not  permitted  to  eveiy  one  to  approach 
the  great  and  the  mighty  upon  earth  ;  but  the  contrary 
is  the  case  with  the  monarch  of  the  skies.  We  may 
touch  him,  if  we  entreat  him  to  let  us  do  so.  And  we 
really  touch  him  by  the  feeling  of  our  wretchedness, 
and  by  our  sincere  longing  and  desire  for  the  sanctifi- 
cation  of  our  souls,  by  prayer,  and  particularly  by  be- 
lieving confidence.  But  what  benefit  was  derived  from 
thus  touching  Jesus?  All  who  did  so  were  made 
whole.  And  such  is  still  the  case.  Jesus  retains  the 
reputation  of  being  a  perfect,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
only,  physician  of  souls.  Deeply  feel  thy  need  of  him, 
and  then  thou  wilt  also  say  with  Jacob,  *  I  will  not  let 
thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me.' 


44  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 


GENESIS   XXXII.    26. 

And  he  said,  Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh.     And  he   said, 
I  will  not  lei  thee  go,  except  thou  Hess  me. 

IN  the  remarkable  event  recorded  in  this  and  the  two 
preceding  verses,  one  wonder  succeeds  another.  The 
Son  of  God  puts  Jacob's  thigh  out  of  joint ;  but  Jacob, 
so  far  from  losing  courage,  throws  himself  upon  the 
neck  of  him  who  had  deprived  him  of  all  his  strength, 
that  he  may  be  borne  by  him,  since  he  is  no  longer 
able  to  stand  of  himself.  A  new  wonder  now  occurs ; 
the  Son  of  God  entreats  Jacob — the  victor  the  van- 
quished—the strong  the  weak — to  let  him  go.  But 
Jacob  wisely  takes  advantage  of  the  opportunity,  and 
replies,  c  I  will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me.' 

'  Let  me  go,'  says  the  'Son  of  God  to  Jacob ;  and 
these  words  belong  to  those  wondrous  expressions,  of 
which  there  are  many  in  the  Scriptures — to  those  ex- 
pressions which,  at  first  sight,  seem  to  intimate  some- 
thing absurd,  and  yet  bear  upon  them  the  impress  of 
Divine  wisdom.  If  we  were  desirous  of  producing  a 
whole  series  of  such  paradoxes,  of  such  seeming  con- 
tradictions, they  would  be  such  as  the  following : 
c  When  I  am  weak,'  as  Paul  says,  'then  am  I  strong.' 
'  As  sorrowful,  yet  always  rejoicing ;  as  poor,  yet  mak- 
ing many  rich ;  as  having  nothing,  yet  possessing  all 
things.' 

(  Let  me  go.'  Was  he  in  earnest,  or  did  he  merely 
dissemble  ?  Dissemble  ?  Who  can  think  that  of  him 


SERMON    III.  45 

who  is  faithful  and  true.  If  he  had  been  in  earnest,  it 
would  have  been  an  easy  thing  to  extricate  himself 
from  the  arms  of  Jacob,  It  was  therefore  a  new  temp- 
tation, into  which  he  led  the  patriarch.  It  would  have 
been  ill  for  the  latter,  if  he  had  let  him  go  ;  he  would 
have  miserably  sunk  upon  the  ground,  the  Son  of  God 
would  have  vanished,  and  with  him  the  blessing  which 
he  obtained  by  holding  him  fast. 

*  Let  me  go.'      Could  he  not  have  dislocated  his 
arms ;  which  is  an  easier  matter  than  putting  a  hip  out 
of  joint  ?    No,  his  powrer  did  not  extend  so  far,  because 
it  necessarily  remained  within  the  limits  assigned  to  it 
by  the  Divine  promise,  *  I  will  do  thee  good.'     But 
the  dislocation  of  Jacob's  arms,  the  extricating  himself 
from  them ;  the  hasting  away   without  conferring   a 
blessing,  would  not  have  been  a  benefit,  but  an  injury ; 
and  this  he  certainly  could  not  inflict  for  his  word's 
sake. 

*  Let  me  go.'     Did  he  need  for  this  purpose  the 
consent  of  his  friend  1     Assuredly  he  did.     He  had  es- 
tablished the  covenant  of  grace  with  him,  and  with  all 
the  spiritual  descendants  of  Abraham,  according   to 
which  he  engaged  to  be  their  shield  and  their  defence. 
He  has  bound  himself  to  bless  them  and  to  do  them 
good,   and  cannot  free  himself  from  this  obligation, 
which  he  has  confirmed  with  an  oath,  without  the  con- 
sent of  those  in  alliance  with  him  ;  and  he  himself  has, 
in  their  regeneration,  imparted  such  a  feeling  to  them, 
that  they  never  can  nor  will  consent  to  it.     f  When 
thou  saidst,  Seek  ye  my  face ;  my  heart  said  unto  thee, 
Thy  face,  Lord,  will  I  seek.'     '  If  we  deny  him,  he  will 

5 


46  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

also  deny  us ;  if  we  believe  not,  yet  he  remaineth  faith- 
ful, he  cannot  deny  himself.  (2  Tim.  ii.  12,  13)  Our 
unbelief  cannot,  render  the  faith  of  God  without  effect.' 
(Rom.  iii.  3)  But  did  he  really  desire  that  Jacob 
should  exonerate  him  from  the  obligation  to  do  him 
good?  Certainly  not:  but  he  wished  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  how  firm,  by  his  grace,  are  the 
hearts  of  his  allies,  even  when  many  waters  of  affliction 
go  over  them  ;  and  how  the  seed  of  God  remains  in  his 
children.  It  was  therefore  uncommonly  pleasing  to 
him,  when  Job  exclaimed,  '  Though  he  slay  me,  yet 
will  I  trust  in  him ;'  and  equally  so  when  his  disciples 
said,  *  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ?  Thou  hast  the 
words  of  eternal  life ;'  and  in  the  same  manner  when 
his  church  continues  to  cleave  firmly  to  him  in  the  ex- 
tremity of  tribulation  and  temptation.  He  himself  is 
the  author  of  this  constancy ;  and  hence  it  is,  that  it  is 
so  pleasing  in  his  sight ;  for  he  takes  pleasure  in  all  his 
works.  What  joy  it  will  have  caused  him  at  being 
unable  to  shake  off  Jacob ;  when  the  latter  held  firmly 
by  his  word,  and  did  not  suffer  himself  to  be  moved 
away  from  the  spot,  whatever  the  Lord  might  say  or 
do  to  him,  after  he  had  once  engaged  to  do  him  good ; 
that  he  even  threw  himself  upon  his  neck,  after  he  had 
deprived  him  of  the  ability  to  stand  alone,  and  con- 
tinued immutably  firm,  when  it  was  said  to  him.  '  Let 
me  go  !'  And  what  pleasure  it  still  causes  him,  when 
the  Christian  does  not  suffer  himself  to  be  dismayed  by 
afflictions  and  temptations,  but  even  then  cleaves  to  his 
word  and  his  grace,  when  every  thing  seems  against 
him ;  when  he  continues  faithful  unto  death ! 


SERMON  III.  47 

1  Let  me  go.'  The  Lord  said  this  to  the  Patriarch, 
to  try  him  whether  he  really  loved  him  who  attacked 
him  so  severely,  and  caused  him  such  sensible  pain. 
That  which  the  Lord  here  says  to  Jacob,  was  said  to 
Job  by  his  wife,  <  Dost  thou  still  retain  thine  integrity, 
although  God  visits  thee  with  such  unheard  of  afflic- 
tions ?'  Take  leave  of  him  and  let  him  go.  It  is  in 
reality  no  small  attainment,  not  only  to  act  patiently  in 
tribulation,  but  even  to  glory  in  it,  and  not  to  doubt  for 
a  moment  of  the  goodness,  compassion,  and  merciful 
kindness  of  the  Lord.  And  when  induced  to  complain 
with  the  church,  in  Isaiah  Ixiii.  15,  (  Where  is  the 
sounding  of  thy  bowels  and  thy  mercies  towards  me  ? 
are  they  restrained  V  still  to  say,  'Doubtless  thou  art 
our  Father ;'  to  confess  with  David, '  Thy  way  is  in  the 
sanctuary;'  and  with  Jeremiah,  in  his  Lamentations, 
1  Thy  goodness  is  every  morning  new !'  This  is  no  easy 
matter. 

In  the  present  season  of  distress,  God  has  certainly 
given  many  of  his  children  an  opportunity  of  refusing 
to  learn  this  lesson  ;  and  the  Tempter  may  have  said  to 
many,  what  the  enemies  of  Jesus  called  out  to  him, 
when  he  hung  upon  the  cross  :  '  He  trusted  in  God,  let 
him  deliver  him  now.' 

*  Let  me  go.'  The  Lord  spoke  thus  to  the  Patriarch 
to  put  his  faith,  to  the  test,  and  ascertain  whether  he 
would  still  cleave  to  the  promise,-'  I  will  do  thee  good,' 
although  the  hostile  conduct  of  the  Son  of  God  seemed 
to  prove  just  the  contrary. 

Faith  has  various  gradations :  at  one  time,  it  is  a 
faith  which  arises  from  seeing,  feeling,  tasting,  and 


48  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

from  the  Lord's  drawing  near  in  loving  kindness  and 
tender  mercy  to  the  pardoned  soul,  in  such  a  manner 
that  the  individual  is  able  to  say,  "  I  believe,  not  mere- 
ly because  of  thy  word,  but  because  I  experience  in 
myself  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Savior  of  the  soul."  This 
is  valuable  experience,  sweet  in  the  sensation,  and  pre- 
cious in  the  fruit.  But  faith,  which  seems  in  these  cir- 
cumstances to  be  uncommonly  strong,  is  in  reality  very 
weak.  It  supports  its  steps  with  the  staff  of -sensation. 
Sensible  joy  in  the  Lord  is  its  strength.  It  has  its  foun- 
dation more  in  itself  than  in  the  Lord ;  and  often  sinks 
down  to  the  extreme  of  despondency,  when  the  trans- 
ports it  previously  felf*diminish.  A  higher  degree  is, 
not  to  see,  and  yet  believe ;  pray  according  to  the  word, 
and  believe  that  the  prayer  will  be  answered,  although 
there  is  no  tangible  proof  of  it ;  believe  that  the  Lord's 
ways  are  goodness  and  truth,  although  reason  does  not 
see  them  to  be  so. 

But  it  is  a  step  further  still,  wheif  we  believe  in  hope, 
where  nothing  is  to  be  hoped  for — nay,  even  against 
hope,  and  against  feeling.  Thus  the  Captain  of  our 
salvation  believed,  in  defiance  of  every  thing  to  the  con- 
trary, when,  forsaken  of  God,  assaulted  by  the  visible 
and  invisible  world,  he  hung  upon  the  cross  for  three 
hours  together,  full  of  pain  in  body  and  soul.  God  laid 
him  in  the  dust  of  death,  and  yet  he  called  him,  in  faith, 
his  God. 

This  is  the  highest  degree  of  faith.  He  who  is  de- 
sirous of  exercising  it,  must  be  established  in  the  know- 
ledge of  the  mystery  of  God,  and  far  advanced  in  the 
denial  of  himself;  the  joint  of  confidence  in  his  own 


SERMON  III.  49 

strength  and  wisdom,  must  be  considerably  dislocated ; 
he  must  be  able  to  look  pretty  deep  into  the  heart  of 
Jesus,  and  yet  say  with  Paul,  4  We  are  perplexed,  but 
not  in  despair.'  (2  Cor.  iv.  8)  '  I  believed,  therefore 
have  I  spoken.'  (Psalm  cxvi.  10.) 

'  Let  me  go.'  Jacob's  courage  was  also  put  to  the 
test.  "  Let  him  go,"  he  might  have  thought.  "  Thy 
tears,  thy  prayers,  have  been  altogether  fruitless.  He 
has  put  thy  thigli  out  of  joint,  and  what  else  does  the 
pain  of  it  tell  thee,  than  'that  he  cherishes  no  favorable 
sentiments  towards  thee.  Who  knows  what  injury  he 
may  still  occasion  thee  1  Although  he  sees  that  thou 
must  miserably  sink  to  the  ground,  and  thus,  without 
even. being  able  to  escape  from  Esau,  must  fall  into  his 
cruel  hands,  yet  he  desires  thee  to  let  him  go."  But 
Jesus  had  already  taken  care  that  he  should  not  be  able 
to  let  him  go,  by  leaving  him  no  choice,  but  placing 
him  under  the  necessity  of  cleaving  to  him.  No,  Jesus 
must  himself  repulse  him,  and  let  go.  his  hold  of  him ; 
but  this  he  did  not  do,  and  rejecting  is  what  Jesus  can- 
not do  ;  for  he  has  said,  '  Him  that  cometh  to  me  I 
will  in  no  wise  cast  out.'  Hence  we  must  exercise 
courage,  or  else  give  up  all  for  lost.  Jacob  was  con- 
strained to  act  thus.  * 

O  happy  souls,  whom  Jesus  has  'wounded  in  such  a 
manner  that  he  alone  can  heal  them,  and  whom  he 
binds  to  himself  by  the  feeling  of  their  misery ;  to 
whom  he  leaves  only  the  choice  between  life  and 
death;  and  who  are  compelled  to  say  with  Hosea, 
*  Come  and  let  us  return  unto  the  Lord ;  for  he  hath 
torn,  and  he  will  heal  us ;  he  hath  smitten,  and  he  v\  ill 
5* 


50  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 


bind  us  up.  He  will  raise  us  up,  and  we  shall  live  in 
his  sight.'  (ch.  vi.  1,  2)  Happy  is  he  who  feels  com^ 
pelled  to  continue  cleaving,  though  he  may  be  under  the 
necessity  of  persevering  in  doing  so,  even  to  the  end  of 
his  life,  without  receiving  consolation  ;  because,  unless 
he  does  so,  he  sees  nothing  but  death  and  destruction 
before  him  !  O  wait  on  the  Lord  ;  though  he  tarry,  be 
of  good  courage  and  undismayed,  and  wait,  I  say,  on 
the  Lord  ! 

6  Let  me  go.'  What  courage  must  this  have  im- 
parted to  Jacob  !  For  what  did  the  words  imply  ? 
That  the  Son  of  God  was  in  his  power,  aijd  that  he 
would  not  depart,  unless  Jacob  gave  his  consent  to  it  ; 
and  this  he  had  himself  rendered  impossible.  What  a 
futile  reason  was  that  which  he  adduced,  (  For  the  day 
breaketh.'  "  Let  it  break,"  might  Jacob  have  replied, 
"  what  is  that  to  me  1  I  have  a  thousand  reasons  why 
I  will  not  let  thee  go,  and  even  the  breaking  of  the 
day  is  one  of  them.  A  painful  day  is  approaching.  I 
am  afraid  of  my  brother  Esau.  I  stand  in  especial 
need  of  thy  blessing.  Thou  dost  well  to  remind  me  of 
it,  that  I  may  cleave  to  thee  still  more  closely." 

O  how  pleasing  must  it  have  been  to  Jesus,  that  his 
pupil  stood  the  test  so  well,  and  "that  his  good  work 
shone  forth  in  such'  a  lovely  manner  in  him  !  In  con- 
sequence of  the  promises  which  are  given  us,  Jesus  is 
also  in  our  power  in  like  manner  ;  and  however  won- 
derfully he  may  deal  with  us,  as  his  name  imports,  yet 
he  can  deny  neither  himself  nor  his  word.  If  he  re- 
proaches thee  with  being  a  sinner,  justify  him  in  doing 
so  ;  but  plead  with  him,  in  return,  that  he  is  the  Savior 


SERMON  HI.  51 

of  sinners.  Confess  that  he  is  in  the  right,  when  he 
sets  before  thee  thy  unbelief,  thy  wretchedness,  and 
and  thy  ilnworthiness ;  arid  set  his  word  before  him, 
'  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find ;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened 
unto  you.'  When  he  was  an  infant,  he  was  wrapped 
in  swaddling  clothes  ;  and  his  promises  are  now  the 
cords  of  love  by  which  we  may  hold  him  fast.  And 
the  best  of  all  is,  he  holds  us  fast ;  otherwise  timid 
Jacob  would  have  taken  to  flight  at  the  first  attack. 
O  how  lovely !  he  was  afraid  of  his  brother  Esau,  but 
not  of  the  Son  of  God,  even  when  he  dislocated  his 
thigh. 

*  Let  me  go.'  How  wonderful,  that  he  declared  him- 
self vanquished  at  the  very  moment  when  Jacob  was 
unable  to  do  any  thing  more  !  As  long  as  Jacob,  rest- 
ing on  his  feet,  was  able  to  defend  himself,  his  antago- 
nist also  did  his  best  against  him.  But  no  sooner  are 
his  feet  no  longer  of  any  use  to  him,  and  Jesus  must  be 
alone  and  entirely  his  support,  than  he  becomes  so 
wholly  and  solely ;  and  Jacob,  when  unable  to  do  any 
thing  more,  can  now  do  all  things  through  Christ,  who 
strengthens  him;  in  whom  he  has  righteousness  and 
strength,  and  who  himself  deprived  him  of  his  own 
strength. 

In  the  Divine  life  the  same  thing  is  wont  to  occur. 
At  the  commencement,  we  are  generally  able  to  do 
many  things ;  we  form  noble  resolutions,  and  expect 
to  fulfil  them  faithfully,  in  which  we  succeed  to  a  tole- 
rable extent.  We  arm  ourselves  with  a  multitude  of 
laudable  maxims  and  noble  motives.  We  hear  and 
read  the  word  of  God  with  unction  and  devotion.  We 


52  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

pray  much,  and  with  fervor.  If  we  commit  a  fault,  we 
repent  of  it  bitterly,  and  renew  our  good  resolutions. 

But  what  generally  happens  afterwards  ?•»  The  fer- 
vor in  prayer  expires,  and  the  oppressed  heart  can 
scarcely  relieve  itself  by  sighs  and  ejaculations ;  it  can 
seldom  shed  a  tear,  and  must  experience,  to  its  sorrow, 
that  theWord  is  in  the  right  to  speak  of '  stony  hearts.' 
Gladly  would  the  individual  feel  the  right  kind  of  sor- 
row at  it ;  but  he  seems  to  himself  to  be  hardened. 
And  if  he  prays,  where  is  the  fervor  1  where  the  faith  ? 
And  yet  no  prayer  is  heard,  unless  it  be  offered  in 
faith.  Where  is  devotion  ?  when  even  the  reception 
of  the  holy  sacrament  itself  cannot  restrain  the  wander- 
ing mind,  however  much  he  may  strive  to  occupy  him- 
self only  with  good  thoughts. 

And  the  good  resolutions  ?  Oh,  he  no  longer  knows 
himself,  whether  they  are  altogether  sincere!  He 
feels,  indeed,  self-love,  unbelief,  and  hardness  of  heart ; 
but  how  to  alter  it,  unless  the  Holy  Spirit  does  it ;  and 
how  to  obtain  Him,  when  he  prays  so  wretchedly,  is 
then  the  question. 

The  Christian  then  feels  like  Jacob  did,  when  his  hip 
was  out  of  joint.  He  supposes  he. must  irrecoverably 
fall  a  prey  to  the  wretchedness  which  he  fears.  If 
Jesus  does  not  accomplish  the  work  entirely ;  if  he  be 
not  the  beginning,  middle,  and  end ;  if  we  are  not 
saved  by  grace  alone  ;  there  is  at  least  nothing  more 
for  him  to  hope  for.  The  name  of  Jesus  alone,  and  the 
word  grace,  sustains  him  in  some  measure,  while 
every  other  support  gives  way. 

But  how  does  the  faithful  Shepherd  act  under  these 


SERMON  III.  53 

circumstances  ?  This  is  the  real  time  of  mercy.  O 
what  does  the  poor  man  now  perceive !  His  Savior 
and  his  Gospel.  He  recognizes  his  supreme  faithful- 
ness in  having  humbled  him,  although  he  thought  his 
Lord  and  Master  acted  strangely,  and  intended  evil 
towards  him.  He  now  finds  that  the  Lord  permitted 
him  to  succeed  in  nothing,  although  he  could  not  con- 
ceive before  why  he  did  not  listen  to  his  anxious  sup- 
plication. He  now  understands  that  the  Lord  hedged 
up  his  way  with  thorns,  to  make  him  take  the  right 
one  ;  and  led  him  into  the  desert,  that  he  might  speak 
kindly  to  him. 

After  having  suffered  the  loss  of  his  own  strength,  he 
now  succeeds  in  the  very  same  way  in  which  Jacob 
succeeded,  whilst  casting  himself  entirely  upon  Him 
who  is  all  to  us. 

'  Let  me  go.'  This  is  like  the  sporting  of  Eternal 
Wisdom  in  the  '  habitable  parts  of  the  earth/  which  she 
often  repeats,  in  order  to  have  her  delights  with  the 

£O<n1   ''nnrliict  of  thf  rVnlflrpn  of  mpn 

A  similar  circumstance  is  mentioned  concerning 
Moses,  in  Exod.  xxxii.  This  man  of  God  remained  a 
long  time  upon  Mount  Sinai,  on  which  God  had  given 
his  law.  At  length  the  people  said,  '  We  know  not 
what  is  become  of  the  man  ;'  and  induced  the  brother 
of  Moses  to  make  them  a  golden  calf.  He  did  so,  and 
they  honored  it  as  their  God — ate  and  drank,  played 
and  danced,  around  it.  The  Lord  informed  Moses  of  it 
and  said  to  him,  *  I  see  that  this  is  a  stiff-necked  people  ; 
now  therefore  let  me  alone,  that  my  wrath  may  wax 
hot  against  them,  and  that  I  may  consume  them  ;  and 


54  THE   WRESTLING   OF    JACOB. 

I  will  make  of  thee  a  great  nation."  Without  the  con- 
sent of  his  servant,  the  Lord  would  do  nothing  ;  and 
Moses  so  adroitly  took  advantage  of  this  condescension, 
that  he  took  the  forgiveness  of  the  people's  sin  with 
him  from  the  Mount,  And  how  ably  did  he  oppose 
the  Lord  with  his  own  weapons  !  He  confesses  the 
wickedness  of  the  people,  but  pleads  with  him  also  his 
word,  his  oath,  and  the  honor  of  his  name  :  and  binds 
his  arm,  as  it  were,  although  already  lifted  up  to  pun- 
ish. For  God  always  acts  only  in  accordance  with 
his  word. 

The  Syrophenician  woman  is  also  a  remarkable  in- 
stance of  this.  It  was  assuredly  only  to  help  her,  that 
the  Savior  took  a  long  journey  to  the  borders  of  Tyre 
and  Sidon.  But  just  as  if  he  would  have  nothing  more 
to  do  with  helping  and  delivering,  he  went  into  a 
house,  and  would  not  that  any  one  should  know  he 
was  there  ;  but,  fortunately,  he  could  not  continue  hid. 
His  arrival  became  known  ;  and,  happily,  a  poor 
afflicted  Canaanitish  woman  heard  of  it.  She  besought 
him,  pitiably,  to  help  her  ;  Lut  Jesus  did  not  even  look 
back,  much  less  answer  her  a  word.  He  let  her  cry 
on,  and  walked  unmercifully  forward.  But  could  his 
heart  have  been  seen,  it  would  have  been  evident  how 
it  melted  with  compassion.  The  disciples,  highly  as- 
tonished at  the  extraordinary  behavior  of  their  Master, 
intercede  for  the  poor  woman  ;  but  they  are  repulsed, 
and  that  in  a  manner  which  would  have  deprived  even 
the  distressed  mother  of  all  courage,  had  not  the  Lord 
continued  secretly  to  impart  fresh  courage  to  her ;  '  I 
am  not  sent,'  said  he,  '  but  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the 


SERMON    III.  55 

house  of  Israel;'  and  not.  to  people  like  this  wo- 
man. But  she  will  not  take  a  refusal  ;  she  blocks  up 
his  path,  falls  at  his  feet,  and  exclaims,  '  Lord,  help 
me  !'  She  had  even  now  to  sustain  the  severest  test, 
and  is  told  in  reply,  '  It  is  not  meet  to  take  the  chil- 
dren's bread,  and  to  give  it  unto  dogs.'  *  Yea,  Lord,' 
answered  she,  '  it  is  certainly  not  right ;  do  not  treat 
me  therefore  as  a  child,  but  as  a  dog,  to  which  the 
crumbs  are  given  which  fall  from  the  table.'  Jesus  is 
now  overcome  ;  *  O  woman/  he  exclaims,  *  great  is 
thy  faith  !  Be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt.' 

After  his  resurrection,  he  joined  himself  to  the  two 
disciples  going  to  Emmaus.  He  spake  to  them  in  such  a 
manner,  that  their  hearts  began  to  burn  with  love  and 
joy  whilst  he  expounded  the  Scriptures  to  them.  He 
holds  their  eyes,  and  they  walk  forwards  with  him,  and 
listen  to  him,  without  knowing  who  he  is.  At  length, 
towards  evening,  they  arrive  at  the  inn.  His  love  is 
too  great  for  him  to  leave  them,  and  yet  he  wishes  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  being  invited  by  them.  .  He 
makes  therefore  as  if  he  would  go  further,  whilst  ren- 
dering it  impossible  for  them  to  let  him  go.  They 
urged  him  to  remain,  or  more  properly,  they  compelled 
him  ;  which  gratified  him  much.  He  remained  there- 
fore. Whilst  breaking  the  bread,  their  eyes  were  open- 
ed. They  knew  him,  and  the  same  moment  he  vanish- 
ed. .  Theh*  joy  was  too  much  for  them  alone :  they 
hastened  back  to  Jerusalem,  and  there  all  was  joy, 
animation,  and  triumph.  He  was  risen  indeed. 

Lazarus,  his  friend,  dies ;  although  he  is  informed  of 
his  sickness,  and  sends  word  that  it  is  not  unto  death. 


56  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

He  remains  quietly  in  his  place  :  he  suffers  the  friend 
whom  he  loves  to  expire.  Lazarus  is  buried,  and  lies 
four  days  in  the  grave.  AIL  hope  is  at  an  end.  Jesus 
surfers  Mary  and  Martha  to  weep  and  mourn,  although 
he  loves  them  also,  and  does  not  once  visit  them.  He 
even  almost  confuses  their  faith  :  for  Lazarus  is  dead, 
although  he  had  said,  '  The  sickness  is  not  unto  death.' 
At  length  he  comes,  but  too  late  ;  and  now  stands  and 
weeps  with  them,  although  he  might  have  helped  them. 
'  Ah,  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had 
not  died,'  says  Mary,  and  falls  weeping  and  almost 
heart-broken  at  his  feet  ;  and  no  one  can  refrain  from 
weeping,  not  even  he  himself.  All  at  once  he  ex- 
claims (  Lazarus,  come  forth  !'  and  the  dead  man 
again  comes  to  life,  after  he  had  been  dead  four  days. 
For  Christ's  word  and  promise  must  be  fulfilled,  what 
ever  happens  :  and  Abraham  went  by  no  means  to  too 
great  lengths,  in  hoping,  after  receiving  the  Divine 
promise,  where  nothing  was  to  be  hoped  for. 

*  Let  me  go.'  If  many  of  those  who  belong  to 
Christ,  who  surrender  themselves  to  him  with  heart  and 
hand,  are  to  be  sirnamed  Jacob  and  Israel,  as  we  read 
in  Isaiah  xliv.,  they  will  have  to  pass  through  a  similar 
conflict  to  that  described. 

( Let  him  go,'  says  the  world  and  sin,  at  first,  to  the 
heart  which  is  desirous  of  resigning  itself  to  Jesus ; 
as  if  we  should  fare  better  in  the  service  of  sin,  than  in 
following  Jesus.  It  may  violently  and  variously  incite 
and  tempt  us  to  withdraw  our  hearts  from  Jesus,  and  no 
longer  strive  against  it,  but  submit  ourselves  to  it.  The 
world  advises  us  to  let  Jesus  go,  and  whispers,  'Why  wilt 


SERMON  III.  57 

thou  renounce  the  company  and  amusements  thou  hast 
hitherto  enjoyed,  and  trouble  and  shorten  thy  days  ? 
Consider  what  others  will  say  to  it.  Who  can  live  in  such 
a  manner  ?  It  is  not  even  necessary ;  and  if  it  were,  it 
is  still  time  enough.  It  seeks  to  gain  only  a  particle  of 
our  hearts,  because  all  the  rest  easily  follows.  If  Jesus 
himself  was  obliged  to  endure  such  temptations,  as  when 
it  was  said, '  All  tnis  will  I  give  thee,  if  thou  wilt  fall 
down  and  worship  me  !'  we  must  also  be  satisfied  to 
bear  them,  and  show  ourselves  as  good  soldiers  of 
Christ. 

Satan  also  says, c  Let  him  go,'  even  as  he  deceitfully 
promised  Jesus  himself  the  whole  world,  if  he  would 
let  God  go,  and  serve  the  prince  of  this  world.  As 
long  as  he  is  able,  he  takes  away  the  word  from  the 
heart  of  man.  When  he  can  no  longer  succeed  in  this, 
and  the  individual  begins  to  think  with  all  earnestness 
of  his  salvation,  he  then  tries  to  depict  godliness  as 
much  too  difficult ;  the  heart  of  Jesus  as  full  of  wrath  and 
displeasure ;  and  to  persuade  him  that  it  is  now  too  late, 
and  that  it  will  not  avail,  whatever  trouble  he  may 
give  himself;  he  is  either  too  great  a  sinner,  or  is  much 
too  small  a  one  in  his  own  eyes.  '  Trouble  not  the  mas- 
ter,' therefore ;  what  will  it  avail  ?  pacify  thyself  as 
well  as  thou  art  able,  and  let  the  serious  thought  of 
Jesus  and  thy  salvation  go.  And  he  may  even  go  so  far 
as  to  quote  what  the  despisers  say  in  Mai.  iii.  14,  *  It  is 
vain  to  serve  God,  and  what  profit  is  it  that  we  have 
kept  his  ordinance,  and  that  we  have  walked  mournfully 
before  the  Lord  of  hosts  V 

Yea,  even  as  Jesus  once  said  to  his  disciples,  '  Will  ye 
6 


58  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

also  go  away  V  and  here  said  to  Jacob, •'  Let  me  go  V 
he  also  informs  us,  that  if  we  will  follow  him,we  must 
deny  ourselves,  and  take  up  our  cross  ;  that  the  path  is 
narrow  on  which  he  leads  us,  and  that  we  must  not  ex- 
pect continued  enjoyment,  but  also  sensible  sufferings. 
If  he  often  lets  us  pray  a  long  time  before  he  comes  to 
our  aid,  or  conceals  himself  anew,  when  we  supposed 
we  had  really  found  him,  and  when  we  cannot  perceive 
by  his  guidance  that  he  loves  us,  cares  for  us,  will  do 
all  things  well,  "but  seems,  on  the  contrary,  to  be  oppos- 
ed to  us,  as  in  the  case  of  Jacob — he  then,  as  it  were, 
says  to  us  '  Let  me  go.' 

In  such  a  situation,  the  Christian  has  a  fine  oppor- 
tunity of  giving  a  proof  of  his  estimation  of  Jesus,  and  of 
his  earnestness  in  seeking  salvation,  of  showing  what  is 
the  object  of  his  desire  and  choice,  what  he  clings  to, 
and  what  he  is  willing  to  offer  up.  Job  went  so  far  in 
this  as  to  declare,  that  he  would  rather  die  than  part 
with  his  integrity.  Abraham  was  ready  to  sacrifice  his 
son  Isaac,  the  dearest  and  the  best  he  had  in  the  world. 
The  Apostles,  and  many  thousands  of  other  Christians, 
did  not  shun  bonds  and  imprisonment — nay,  even  every 
torture,  and  the  most  horrible  death,  to  win  Christ. 

The  Savior  is  not  only  able,  but  frequently  really : 
gives  his  people  such  an  insight  into  his  heart,  so  full 
of  love,  grace,  and  truth,  that,  like  Jacob,  they  clearly 
perceive  that  they  may  ask  in  his  name  what  they  will, 
in  the  certainty  that  he  will  grant  it  them  ;  and,  in  a 
certain  sense,  must  do  so,  for  his  faithfulness  arid  his 
truth's  sake. 

Their  hearts  become  so  enlarged,  that  they  feel  the 


SERMON  III.  59 

entire  emphasis  of  the  passage,  *  He  that  spared  not  his 
own  Son,  but  freely  gave  him  up  for  us  all — how  shall 
he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  !'  '  What- 
soever ye  shall  ask  the  Father  in  my  name,  he  will  give 
it  you.'  Jacob's  heart  expanded  so  much  at  the  words, 
'  Let  me  go,'  that  he  answered, '  I  will  not  let  thee  go, 
except  thou  bless  me.'  But  more  of  this  another  time. 
At  present  I  only  add  : 

If  you  are  desirous  of  becoming  true  and  sincere 
Christians,  let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,  neither  let  it 
be  afraid.  Ye  believe  in  God — believe  also  in  Jesus 
Christ.  If  sometimes  your  path  is  strange,  incompre- 
hensible, and  painful,  you  have  no  reason  to  fear.  Be 
not  dismayed,  when  you  can  accomplish  nothing  more 
by  your  own  strength ;  for  Christ  makes  you  weak,  only 
that  his  strength  may  be  perfected  in  your  weakness. 
But,  whether  courageous  or  fearful,  do  not  forsake  Jesus. 

1  Faithful  is  he  who  hath  called  you,  who  also  will 
do  it.'  Amen. 


SERMON   IV. 

GENESIS  XXXII.  26. 
And  he  said,  I  will  not  let  thee  go  unless  thou  bless  me. 

.  WE  read,  in  2  Kings  xiii.  14,  that  Elisha,  that  great 
and  remarkable  prophet,  at  length  fell  sick,  and  drew 
near  his  end.  Joash,  the  king  of  Israel,  came  and  vis- 
ited him  :  and  when  he  saw  how  dangerous  his  illness 
was,  the  king  wept,  and  exclaimed, '  O  my  father,  my 
father,  the  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the  horsemen  thereof !} 
Thou  art  near  death,  who  wast  more  to  Israel  than  a 
whole  army,  and  often  delivered  it  out  of  its  distresses  ! 
What  a  loss  !  especially  at  a  time  when  the  Syrians 
were  pressing  Israel  sorely. 

The  sick  prophet  had  pleasing  news  from  the  Lord 
for  the  sorrowing  king,  which  he  communicated  to  him 
in  a  symbolical  manner.  He  told  him  to  open  a  win- 
dow, and  shoot  out  of  it.  The  king  shot,  and  the  pro- 
phet said, <  This  is  an  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance 
from  Syria.'  He  then  told  the  king  to  take  other  ar- 
rows, and  smite  upon  the  ground  with  them  ;  which 
was  again  intended  as  a  pre-intimation  of  successful  oc- 
currences ;  as  Joash  might  have  inferred  from  the  first 
sign.  But  he  smote  only  thrice,  and  then  ceased.  The 
man  of  God  was  then  wroth  with  him,  and  said, 
'  Thou  shouldst  have  smitten  five  or  six  times  ;  then 


SERMON  IV.  61 

hadst  thou   smitten  Syria  till  thou  hadst  consumed  it ; 
whereas  now  thou  shalt  smite  Syria  but  thrice.' 

Such  is  the  history.  What  does  it  teach  us  ?  That 
we  should  not  stop  half  way  in  the  spiritual  course, 
but  press  forward  to  the  mark.  Even  in  spiritual 
things  we  may  stop,  after  having  smitten  thrice,  when 
we  ought  to  have  done  it  six  times.  Some  satisfy 
themselves  entirely  with  the  externals  of  religion ;  and 
are  contented  with  having  smitten  once,  so  to  speak. 
Propriety  of  conduct,  going  to  church,  and  the  recep- 
tion of  the  sacrament,  constitute  the  whole  of  their 
religion.  They  ought,  however,  to  go  on  to  repentance 
and  faith,  and  thus  smite  five  or  six  times.  Some 
smite  the  ground  twice,  and  add  to  their  outward  ob- 
servances, attendance  at  meetings,  and  a  greater  degree 
of  prayer ;  they  also  feel  a  little  distressed,  and  are  then 
a  little  relieved,  and  are  like  the  foolish  virgins  who 
carry  lamps  without  oil ;  are  ever  hearing  and  learning, 
and  yet  do  not  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
Others  possess  genuine  grace,  poverty  of  spirit,  sorrow 
for  sin,  and  a  hungering  and  thirsting  after  righteous- 
ness ;  and  yet,  like  Joash,  they  do  not  obtain  a  com- 
plete victory,  although  they  obtain  salvation  :  their 
faith  rests  upon  their  feelings,  and  is  as  mutable  as  the 
latter.  It  depends  upon  the  consciousness  of  the  cha- 
racteristic marks  of  a  state  of  grace,  and  is  founded 
more  upon  the  grace  in  them,  than  that  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus  ;  and  hence  they  are  never  comfortable ; 
they  smite  the  ground  twice  or  thrice  ;  they  do  not  pro- 
ceed in  a  direct  line  towards  Jesus ;  and  resemble  a 
man  who  looks  at  a  star  through  a  telescope  held  by  a 
6* 


62  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

trembling  hand— he  sees  it  sometimes,  but  not  at  others, 
and  must  then  seek  it  again. 

There  are  also  some  who,  like  the  Corinthians 
whom  Paul  reproves,  are  soon  satisfied.  They  have 
had  some  experience  in  religion,  their  acquaintance 
with  which  induces  them  to  reckon  themselves  amongst 
the  children  of  God,  notwithstanding  all  their  present 
coldness  and  estrangement  from  Jesus  ;  and  to  regard 
it  as  faith,  and  even  strong  faith,  that  they  do  not 
doubt  of  their  state  of  grace.  But  believing  in  Jesus  is 
certainly  something  else  than  the  belief  in  our  own 
state  of  grace ;  and  salvation  is  promised,  not  to  the 
latter,  but  to  the  former.  If  we  are  in  the  vine,  where  is 
the  sap  1  They  have  ceased  to  smite,  when  they  ought 
to  have  continued  to  do  so. 

But  there  are  others  who  look  steadfastly  unto  Jesus, 
and  do  not  receive  him  half,  but  entirely ;  not  occasion- 
ally, but  continually ;  and  maintain  an  uninterrupted 
intercourse  with  him.  They  are  wholly  sinners  in 
their  own  esteem,  and  let  Jesus  be  their  entire  Savior ; 
and  thus  they  smite  five  or  six  times,  until  they  con- 
sume the  Syrian  host. 

Jacob,  terrified  at  the  wrath  of  his  brother  Esau,  has 
recourse  to  the  Lord  in  prayer.  Scarcely  has  he  begun 
to  do  so,  when  a  man  lays  hold  of  him,  in  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night,  and  struggles  with  him.  He  endea- 
vors not  only  by  bodily  strength  to  expel  him  from  the 
place,  but  also  to  drive  him  from  the  throne  of  grace, 
by  setting  before  him  his  sins ;  both,  however,  solely 
with  the  intention  of  exercising  his  faith,  and  occasion- 
ing him  a  new  victory.  Jacob  resists  with  his  bodily 


SERMON  IV.  63 

powers,  and  especially  by  his  tears  and  prayers,  accord- 
ing to  Hosea.  (xii.  4.)  The  struggle  becomes  more  vio- 
lent, so  that  the  patriarch's  thigh  is  dislocated  by  the 
touch  of  his  antagonist.  But  the  very  moment  in 
which  he  was  unable  to  continue  the  conflict,  in  conse- 
quence of  being  deprived  of  his  strength,  and  when 
compelled  to  sink  down  completely  overcome,  so  that 
he  must  necessarily  fall  into  the  hands  of  Esau,  he 
throws  himself  upon  the  neck  of  his  opponent,  who 
then  declares  himself  vanquished ;  thus  he  is  in  Jacob's 
power,  and  cannot  depart  unless  the  patriarch  volunta- 
rily releases  him.  Wonderful  procedure!  As  long 
as  Jacob  possessed  strength  he  was  overcome,  and  con- 
quers at  the  moment  when  it  forsakes  him.  '  When  I 
am  weak,  then  am  I  strong.'  To  them  that  have  no 
might,  increased  power  is  given,  whilst  the  strong 
grow  weary  and  fall.  Who  can  understand  it,  or  com- 
prehend the  wonders  of  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  Only 
they  to  whom  it  is  given.  To  others  it  is  a  stumbling- 
block,  and  foolishness.  Jacob  perceived  very  clearly 
what  was  implied  in  the  words, '  Let  me  go ;'  he  per- 
ceived that  his  opponent  was  in  his  power,  yielded  him- 
self to  him,  and  virtually  said,  '  Ask  of  me,  and  I  will 
give  thee  the  heathen  for  an  inheritance,  and  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  earth  for  a  possession.'  And  he 
faithfully  took  advantage  of  this  when  he  answered, 
'  I  will  not  let  thee  go  unless  thou  bless  me.' 
We  consider, 

What  the  blessing  implied : 

Jacob's  resolution  not  to  let  the  Son  of  God  go, 
before  bestowing  it ;  and  lastly, 

The  result. 


64  THE    WRESTLING    OF    JACOB. 

The  Lord,  in  his  word,  has  opened  the  door  of  grace 
to  us  to  an  astonishing  extent.  If  we  had  faith,  and, 
like  Jacob,  made  a  due  and  bold  use  of  it,  we  should 
experience  marvellous  things.  It  is  said  in  general, 
*  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive.  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given 
you,  that  your  joy  may  be  full.'  And  there  is  no  limit- 
ation prescribed,  either  in  asking  or  in  giving ;  on  the 
contrary  Christ  says, '  What  things  soever  ye  desire, 
when  ye  pray,  believe  that  ye  receive  them,  and  ye 
shall  have  them ;'  and  adds,  '  Have  faith  in  God.  For 
verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  whosoever  shall  say  unto 
this  mountain,  Be  thou  removed,  and  be  thou  cast  into 
the  sea ;  and  shall  not  doubt  in  his  heart,  but  shall  be- 
live  those  things  which  he  saith  shall  come  to  pass  :  he 
shall  have  whatsoever  he  saith.'  What  a  bill — if  I 
may  speak  in  a  mercantile  manner — has  He  whose 
name  is  Amen,  here  drawn  upon  himself  !— and  since 
his  riches  are  unsearchable,  there  is  no  doubt  of  the 
payment.  <  Yes,'  says  Paul,  he  is  rich  unto  all  that 
call  upon  him.' 

It  is  however  said,  (  Have  faith  in  God  !'  and  there 
is  great  want  of  this  upon  earth.  The  testimony  of 
man  is  received ;  but  the  testimony  of  God,  which  is 
greater — dreadful  thought ! — no  man  receiveth.  But 
he  that  receives  it,  sets  to  his  seal  that  God  is  true  ; 
and  he  that  does  not,  deprives  himself  of  eternal  life. 
(John  iii.  32,  33.) 

In  how  many  different  ways  the  Savior  seeks  to  en- 
courage boldness  in  prayer !  He  asks  parents  whether 
they  would  give  a  stone  to  their  children  when  asking 
for  bread,  or  poison  instead  of  food  ;  and  teaches  us  to 


SERMON  IV.  65 

draw  the  conclusion,  that  God  who  is  gracious,  and 
even  love  itself,  is  certainly  ready  to  bestow  blessings 
which  cost  him  nothing,  since  men  are  capable  of  doing 
good,  though  they  are  evil,  and  though  it  costs  them 
something.  Is  it  possible,  that  a  friend  can  show  kind- 
ness to  another,  when  urgently  entreated,  although  it 
occasion  him  trouble  ;  and  you  will  not  place  a  similar 
confidence  in  God,  who,  by  a  mere  nod,  can  communi- 
cate the  greatest  blessings  to  you,  without  being  the 
least  incommoded  by  it  ?  You  think  it  possible  that  a 
haughty  and  unrighteous  judge,  who  neither  fears  God 
nor  regards  man,  may  be  induced,  by  the  persevering 
entreaties  of  an  inconsiderable  widow,  to  grant  her  re- 
quest ;  and  yet  imagine  that  your  kind  and  gracious 
Father  will  unfeelingly  suffer  you  to  supplicate  him  in 
vain  ? — He  who  says,  '  Call  upon  me  in  the  day  of 
trouble ;  I  will  deliver  thee.'  Be  ashamed  of  your  in- 
credulity !  If  he  has  given  up  his  Son — the  best,  and 
dearest,  and  most  excellent  of  all  he  possessed — shall  he 
hesitate  about  infinitely  inferior  benefits  ?  Will  he  not 
rather,  with  him,  freely  give  us  all  things  ?  Is  it  not 
irrational,  absurd  folly  and  sin  to  cherish  the  smallest 
doubt  of  it  ?  Ah,  Lord,  teach  us  how  to  pray  !  for  it  is 
a  wonderful  art  to  be  able  to  pray  aright. 

We  know  neither  how  we  ought  to  pray,  nor  what 
we  ought  to  pray  for  as  we  ought.  But  the  Spirit 
maketh  intercession  for  us  with  groanings  that  cannot 
be  uttered.  And  certainly  prayer  is  a  very  different 
thing  to  the  sound  and  arrangement  of  the  words  that 
are  used ;  and  it  is  a  question,  with  respect  to  many, 
whether  ever  they  prayed  in  their  lives,  however  often 


66  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

they  thought  they  prayed  and  seemed  to  pray  ;  whilst 
others  pray  very  powerfully  who  believe  they  cannot 
pray  at  all.  '  But  if  ye  abide  in  me,  says  the  Savior, 
and  my  words  abide  in  you,  ye  shall  ask  what  ye  will, 
and  it  shall  be  done  unto  you.'  (John  xv.  7.) 

Jactfb  understood  all  this.  He  perceived  that  he  had 
the  Son  of  God  in  his  power,  and  could  request  as  great 
a  blessing  of  him  as  he  wished.  Hence  he  declares 
that  he  will  not  let  him  go  unless  he  bless  him. 

But  what  is  the  meaning  of  blessing  ? 

It  means,  amongst  men,  wishing  them  every  good, 
particularly  of  a  spiritual  kind,  from  God  through 
Christ,  in  a  praying  and  believing  frame.  The  blessings 
which  Isaac,  and  afterwards  Jacob,  pronounced  upon 
his  sons,  were  prophetic  announcements,  and  therefore 
of  a  very  peculiar  kind.  The  first-mentioned  descrip- 
tion of  blessing  is  pleasing  and  salutary. 

Pleasing  are  the  good  wishes  of  one  towards  another, 
when  springing  from  a  loving  heart,  which  is  turned 
towards  God  through  Christ ;  for  they  are  proofs  and 
signs  of  love,  and  consequently  expressions  of  the 
image  of  God.  They  are  therefore  beautiful  .and 
sacred,  and  only  true  Christians  know  how  to  bestow 
them — and  they  do  so  too.  How  many  salutations 
does  the  New  Testament  contain  !  The  sixteenth  chap- 
ter of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  consists  almost  entirely 
of  them ;  and  saluting  or  greeting  means  nothing  more 
than  affectionately  blessing,  and  consists  not  in  the 
sound  of  words,  but  in  the  emotion  of  the  heart.  It  is 
an  exercise  becoming  Christians ;  for  they  are  priests, 
whose  province  it  is  to  bless.  Hence  Paul  took  plea- 


SERMON  IV.  67 

sure  also  in  mentioning  the  salutations  of  others,  which 
he  by  no  means  looked  upon  as  inconsiderable  trifles. 
St.  John  likewise  does  not  fail  to  communicate  the  salu- 
tations of  pious  children,  with  which  he  had  been 
charged,  as  his  second  Epistle  proves.  But  he  looks 
upon  such  salutations  very  earnestly  and  closely,  when, 
in  the  same  Epistle,  he  enjoins  that  those  who  do  not 
bring  with  them  the  doctrine  of  Christ — the  doctrine  of 
the  Father  and  the  Son — shall  not  be  receivecl  into  the 
house,  nor  even  be  wished  God  speed ;  for  John  pos- 
sessed as  much  holiness  as  love,  respecting  which  we 
must  not  imagine  that  it  consents  to  every  thing, 
although  it  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly.  God  him- 
self is  a  sea  of  love ;  and  yet  his  anger  burns,  his  lips 
are  full  of  fury,  and  his  tongue  a  consuming  fire.  For 
even  as  love  attracts  that  to  it  which  is  like  itself ;  so 
also  it  violently  rejects  that  which  is  unlike.  Hence 
Jesus  also,  on  the  day  of  final  judgment,  will  say, 
4  Depart  from  me,  ye  evil  doers ;  I  never  knew  you.' 
Even  as  he  also  said  to  Satan, '  Get  thee  behind  me.' 

The  salutation  or  blessing  of  real  Christians  is  like- 
wise something  salutary  and  powerful,  when  it  is 
bestowed  as  it  ought,  with  a  believing  elevation  of  the 
heart  to  God  through  Christ.  We  believe  in  the 
communion  of  saints.  It  consists  not  merely  in  that 
sincere  and  heart-felt  love  which  so  infallibly  prevails 
amongst  real  Christians,  that  John  adduces  it  as  a  cha- 
racteristic of  having  passed  from  death  unto  life ;  and 
adds,  '  He  that  loveth  not  his  brother  abideth  in  death.' 
It  consists  not  merely  in  contributing  to  their  support 
with  our  outward  substance,  and  ministering  to  them 


68  THE   WKESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

with  our  spiritual  gifts,  such  as  instruction,  encourage- 
ment, and  consolation  ;  but  we  have  also  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  our  labor  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord,  when 
you  bless  me  in  spirit,  and  I,  in  return,  bless  you,  and 
when  we  mutually  supplicate  for  each  other  grace  and 
salvation  from  God.  For  the  Lord  fulfils  the  desire  of 
them  that  fear  him.  Nay,  it  is  even  a  reciprocal  duty. 
1  Pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem,'  it  is  said  in  Psalm 
cxxii. — an  expression  synonymous  with  wishing  pros- 
perity to  it.  '  They  shall  prosper  that  love  thee.' 
{ We  bless  you  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,'  is  the  conclu- 
sion of  Psalm  cxxix.  And  Paul  says,  '  Pray  for  one 
another ;'  and  also  requests  the  intercessions  of  the 
church  on  his  own  behalf.  Let  us  also  mutually  exer- 
cise this,  that  the  body  of  Christ  may  be  edified.  Our 
blessing,  however,  is  powerless  in  itself,  and  is  only 
effectual  when  our  hearts  are  incited  to  it  by  the  Lord, 
and  accord  with  His  will. 

Jacob  desires  to  be  blest  by  the  Lord  himself;  and 
the  blessing  of  the  Lord  does  not  consist  in  mere  words, 
but  in  the  real  communication  of  grace  and  gifts.  The 
Lord  left  this  world  whilst  lifting  up  his  hands  in  the 
act  of  blessing ;  but  we  do  not  read  that  he  uttered 
any  thing  on  the  occasion.  He  imparted  real  life  to 
his  disciples  ;  which  enabled  them  to  return  to  Jerusa- 
lem without  the  visible  presence  of  Jesus — not  with 
sorrow,  but  with  joy. 

Every  thing,  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  has  reference 
to  that  which  is  real  and  substantial.  The  world,  on 
the  contrary,  is  a  kingdom  of  falsehood.  It  promises 
pleasure  and  delight,  and  even  rest ;  but  it  does  not 


SERMON  IV.  69 

keep  its  word.  What  it  gives  is  shadow,  which  may 
for  a  season  deceive,  so  that  the  mistaken  individual 
himself  imagines  that  he  is  wonderfully  well  satisfied. 
But  before  he  is  aware,  the  delusive  prospect  fades 
from  his  view,  and  he  finds  himself  enveloped  in  dark- 
ness. The  world  deprives  him  again  of  all  the  dignities, 
pleasures,  property,  and  happiness  it  had  afforded  him, 
in  order  to  bestow  them  upon  others.  It  pays  no  atten- 
tion to  his  ardent  desire  for  the  further  possession  and 
enjoyment  of  them,  nor  to  his  great  unwillingness  to 
part  with  them.  Inexorable  death  deprives  him  of 
every  thing ;  reduces  him  to  dust ;  and  hurries  him, 
naked  and  bare,  into  another  world,  where  he  meets 
with  none  of  the  objects  which  had  been  lent  him  for 
a  time ;  where  the  man  in  authority  is  no  longer  re- 
spected, and  where  the  rich  man  no  longer  possesses 
anything ;  because  nothing  avails  then,  but  the  new 
creature,  which  after  God  is  created  in  righteousness 
and  true  holiness,  which  he  does  not  possess  ;  and  in 
faith  which  worketh  by  love,  of  which  he  is  destitute. 
Poor  deceived  mortal  ! 

Thus  the  world  is  a  kingdom  of  lies,  and  we  ourselves 
are  also  full  of  deceit,  which  misleads  the  understanding 
as  well  as  the  desire  to  seek  happiness  in  vanity.  Hence 
the  individual  must  be  born  again ;  from  being  carnal, 
must  become  spiritual ;  from  being  earthly,  must  become 
heavenly  ;  and  from  being  an  unbeliever,  must  become 
a  believer ;  and  thus  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God, 
which  consists  solely  of  truth  and  reality.  When  in 
the  latter,  anything  is  termed  good  or  evil,  it  is  really 
so,  and  will  manifest  itself  to  be  so.  •  The  things  are 
7 


70  .THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

really  as  it  describes  them.  When  it  says, t  Seek  that  !J 
it  is  really  worth  while.  When  it  says,  set  not  your 
affections  upon  that  particular  object,'  it  is  hot  worth 
the  while  striving  for  it.  In  short,  it  always  advises  us 
for  the  best.  Its  -promises  also  are  true  and  sure. 
When  it  says,  "  The  blood  of  Christ  cleanses  the  con- 
science from  all  sin,  and  renders  us  happy,"  it  proves  it- 
self to  be  so  in  our  minds;  even  as  many  thousands,  in 
every  age,  have  found  it  confirmed  in  their  own  expe- 
rience. If  it  tells  us,  "The  Lord  careth  for  you,"  it 
proves  that  it  is  the  case  in  all  who  receive  the  saying. 
Its  joys  are  real  and  substantial ;  and  when  once  it  will 
appear  what  we  shall  bej  all 'our  expectations  will  be 
exceeded.  In  short, 

"  Who  seeks  this  world,  a  burthen  finds, 
Which  firmly  on  his  back  he  binds. 
Upon  the  chaff  and  wind  he  feeds, 
And  a  most  wretched  life  he  leads, 
Until  at  length  he  feels,  too  late, 
The  misery  of  such  a  fate. 
A  friend  in  need,  in  death  a  stay, 
A  comfort  during  all  the  way, 
Unfailing,  thou  wilt  find  in  none, 
On  earth  or  heaven,  but  God  alone." 

With  all  its  wisdom,  the  world  is  nothing  but  deceit, 
when  it  presumes  to  put  in  its  word  upon  spiritual  things, 
because  it  knows  nothing  of  Christ.  But  upon  him  who 
enters  into  the  kingdom  of  God  the  true  and  marvellous 
light  arises,  and  he  sees  what  was  otherwise  hidden 
from  his  eyes.  When  Jesus  blesses,  he  actually  imparts 
'  all  things  that  pertain  to  life  and  godliness.' 

What  is  it,  therefore,  that  we  call  blessing  ?  It  is  the 


'  SERMON  IV.  71 

opposite  of  curse.  As  the  latter  comprehends  in  it  all 
that  is  evil,. with  respect  to  body  and  soul,  in  time  and 
eternity  ;  so  blessing,  on  the  contrary,  comprises  in  it  all 
inward  and  outward  temporal  and  spiritual  prosperity. 
Outward  prosperity,  that  is,  perfect  health,  .disturbed  by 
no  sickness,  pain,  or  indisposition ;  in  the  enjoyment  of 
which,  the  body  possesses  all  possible  perfection,  so 
that  no  weariness  oppresses  it,  no  tedium  troubles  it, 
and  every  sense  is  capable  of  uninterrupted  and  exalted 
enjoyment.  We  must  certainly  take  into  account,  at 
the  same  time,  the  infinite  period  after  the  resurrection  ; 
but  in  the  kingdom  of  God  a  thousand  years  pass  for  a 
day,  and  Jesus  as  a  perfect  Savior  renders  at  length  both 
body  and  soul  perfectly  healthy  and  happy ;  as  an  infal- 
lible pledge  of  which  we  know  that  he  himself  dwells 
in  heaven  with  body  and  soul. 

Blessing,  in  a  spiritual  sense,  is  a  perfectly  tranquiliz- 
ed  mind,  an. understanding  endowed  with  all  perception, 
a  heart  thoroughly  pervaded  by  God,  and  entirely  one 
with  God,  which  may  be  experienced  even  here  below, 
in  a  good  measure.  It  is  true  we  live  here  by  faith  and 
not  by  sight,  and  are  saved  and  sanctified  by  hope,  and 
are  not  yet  m  perfect  possession  and  enjoyment.  The 
blessing,  the  life,  however,  which  takes  its  commence- 
ment here,  .is  an  eternal  blessing,  an  eternal  life  ;  and 
becomes  in  us  a  well  of  water  springing  up  to  everlast- 
ing life.  Let  it  suffice  you,  that  you  are  kept,  through 
faith  unto  salvation ;  and  that  all  tilings  shall  work  to- 
gether for  good  to  them  that  love  $od.  Rejoice  that 
your  names  are  written  in  heaven,  and  that  a  mansion 
it  already  prepared  for  you.  The  heavenly  Joshua  is 


72  THE   WRESTLING    OF   JACOB. 

able  to  conduct  you  through  the  wilderness,  and  not  to 
let  you  want  either  bread  or  water  ;  and  even  if  you 
must  have  flesh,  he  knows  how  to  procure  it ;  only  take 
care  to  leave  the  world  its  onions  and  its  garlic. 

What  has  been  premised  sufficiently  proves,  that 
blessing  comprehends  in  it  the  entire  appropriation  of 
salvation,  from  the  first  gentle  inclination  of  the  man's 
will  towards  God — of  which  he  himself  may  perhaps 
be  unconscious — to  perfect  felicity  before  the  throne  of 
the  Lamb ;  from  the  being  called  with  a  holy  calling 
to  the  being  glorified  in  heaven  5  for  it  is  one  blessing, 
something  entire.  Hence  Paul  represents  it,  in  Rom. 
viii.,  as  in  a  chain  or  series  of  blessings ;  '  Whom  he  did 
foreknow,  he  also  did  predestinate  to  be  conformed  to 
the  image  of  his  Son.  Whom  he  did  predestinate, 
them  he  also  called ;  and  whom  he  called,  them  he  also 
justified ;  and  whom  he  justified,  them  he  a::  o  glorified. 
What  shall  we  then  say  to  these  things  ?  If  God  be 
for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?' 

Earthly  benefits  are  also  a  species  of  blessing,  which 
certainly  ought  not  to  be  overlooked.  The  abundant 
harvest  of  the  present  year  forcibly  draws  our  attention 
to  this  view  of  the  subject.  The  field  and  the  garden 
preach  to  us  concerning  the  goodness  of  God,  by  pre- 
senting us  with  the  enjoyment  of  it,  with  respect  to 
which  we  ought  not  to  be  unsusceptible,  but  to  lift  up 
our  eyes  to  the  God  of  blessing,  who  opens  his  liberal 
hand,  and  satisfies  the  desire  of  every  living  thing,  and 
on  whom  our  temporal  prosperity  as  much  depends  as 
our  spiritual.  But  we  call  whatever  belongs  to  our 
temporal  prosperity  only  a  species  of  blessing ;  because 


SERMON  IV.  73 

even  the  wicked  partake  of  it,  whilst  the  godly  not  uri- 
frequently  obtain  only  a  small  share.  God  causes  his 
sun  to  shine  upon  the  evil  and  the  good,  and  his  rain  to 
descend  on  the  just  and  the  unjust.  Temporal  benefits 
are  only  a  curse  to  the  ^wicked ;  and  in  the  end  they 
fall  into  the  most  bitter  poverty,  as-we  see  in  the  exam- 
ple of  the  rich  man.  What  does  it  profit  a  man,  if  he 
gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul?  What 
avails  all  participation  in  the  things  of  the  present  world, 
without  having  part  in  that  which  is  to  come  ?  And 
how  lamentable  is  the  folly  of  neglecting  eternal  bless- 
ings, whilst  seeking  after  transitory  good;  and  yet, 
alas !  ho\v  common ! 

The  triune  God  is  the  source  of  all  blessing.  c  The 
Lord  bless  thee  and  keep  thee  !  The  Lord  cause  his 
face  to  shine  upon  thee,  and  be  gracious  to  thee !  The 
Lord  lift  up  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon  thee,  and 
grant  thee  peace !'  From  him,  as  the  Father  of  lights, 
comes  down  every  good  and  perfect  gift.  No  man  can 
receive  anything,  except  it  be  given  him  of  the  Father. 
It  is  not  of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth, 
but  of  God  that  showeth  mercy,  and  of  his  free  will.  It 
is  in  vain  to  rise  early  and  sit  up  late,  unless  the  Lord 
give  his  blessing  with  it.  In  vain  is  the  watchfulness 
of  the  watchman,  unless  the  Lord  keep  the  city ;  or 
the  industry  of  the  builder,  unless  the  Lord  co-operate. 
With  all  his  rapidity,  the  swift  may  fail  in  the  race,  be- 
cause he  either  applies  it  too  early  or  too  late.  With 
all  his  ability,  the  merchant  may  miscalculate,  and  fail, 
notwithstanding  all  his  prudence.  Strength  alone  is 
not  sufficient  to  secure  victory  in  the  combat,  nor  does 


74  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

expertness  in  anything  render  the  individual  accept- 
able. 

Success  belongs  to  a  jurisdiction  which  receives  no 
laws  from  princes,  since  they  are  themselves  the  sub- 
jects of  that  which  men  call  time  and  chance ;  but  we 
Christians,  '  Divine  Providence.'  Be  careful  for  noth- 
ing, and  know  at  least  that  it  is  of  no  avail.  The  case  is 
the  same  with  spiritual  things,  and  in  a  still  greater  de- 
gree. The  Lord  bless  thee !  Thou  art  then  blessed  indeed. 

The  real  cause  of  blessing  is  Christ  crucified — his 
priesthood — and,  primarily,  his  expiring  on  the  cross. 
The  blessing  had  departed  from  us,  and  it  was  neces- 
sary to  regain  it  for  us.  The  curse  had  come  upon  us, 
and  must  be  removed.  Both  were  too  great  and  too 
difficult  for  us  to  accomplish.  The  price  was  such,  that 
we  should  never  have  been  able  to  procure  it.  God 
then  sent  his  Son  into  the  world.  He  came  attired  in 
such  a  manner  that  no  one  regarded  him  for  what  he 
really  was  but  he  to  whom  the  Father  revealed  it.  A 
simple  son  of  man,  in  fashion  as  other  men,  few  only 
beheld  his  glory,  the  glory  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of 
the  Father,  full  of  grace  and  truth.  In  the  form  of  a 
servant,  it  was  easy  to  take  him  for  any  thing  else  than 
the  Lord  from  heaven.  And  what  was  the  end  of  him  ? 
He  died  in  the  flower  of  his  years — died  without  having 
apparently  accomplished  any  thing — died  in  the  most 
wretched,  painful,  and  ignominious  manner,  as  a  con- 
demned malefactor,  as  a  defamer  of  Divine  and  human 
majesty,  and  was  buried.  What  shall  we  say  to  these 
things  ?  The  disciples  knew  not  what  to  say,  and  wept. 
The  Jews  thought  they  understood  it.  "  If  he  were 


SERMON  IV.  75 

not  a  malefactor ;  if  there  were  any  truth  in  the  thing ; 
if  it  were  only  half  true  what  he  affirmed  as  entirely  so 
with  an  oath,  that  he  was  the  Son  of  God  ;  he  could 
not  possibly  have  been  crucified."  But  a  mystery  lay, 
and  lies,  in  the  whole  affair — a  mystery  that  was  hid- 
den from  the  beginning  of  the  world ;  but  which  is  re- 
vealed to  us  by  the  Apostles ;  a  mystery  which  was  un- 
known to  the  rulers  of  this  world ;  a  wisdom  of  God 
with  them  that  are  perfect;  in  one  word,  the  mystery 
of  the  cross  of  Christ.  And  what  mystery  is  that? 
Paul  declares  it  in  Gal.  iii.  13,  when  he  says,  ( Christ 
hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  by  becom- 
ing a  curse  for  us,  which  is  proved  by  the  manner  of 
his  death ;  for  it  is  written,  Cursed  is  every  one  that 
hangeth  on  a  tree.'  And  Christ  hung  upon  the  tree, 
that  we  might  receive  the  blessing  already  promised  to 
Abraham.  Jesus  is  therefore,  by  virtue  of  his  death, 
the  true  high  priest,  who  pronounces  the  blessing  upon 
us ;  from  Him  we  must  seek  it,  even  as  Jacob  did. 

But  what  are  the  means  for  obtaining  the  blessing  1 
Not  works.  If  you  seek  it  thus,  you  will  nevertheless 
continue  under  the  curse;  (Gal.  iii.  10)  and  though 
you  torment  yourselves  day  and  night,  you  will  ad- 
vance no  further.  Jacob  had  also  wrestled  mightily ; 
and  such  must  be  the  case,  and  it  must  be  continued 
with  all  earnestness,  as  long  as  we  are  able  to  accom- 
plish anything.  At  length  we  are  obliged  to  stand 
still.  Jacob  had  at  last  no  alternative,  after  his  thigh 
was  put  out  of  joint,  than  passively  to  cast  himself  upon 
the  neck  of  the  Son  of  God ;  and  then  only  it  was  that 
*  he  blessed  him  there.' 


76  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

By  faith,  says  Paul  elsewhere,  we  are  to  receive  the 
promised  Spirit ;  and  calls  the  Galatians,  who  had  un- 
derstood it  otherwise,  foolish  and  bewitched.  Read  the 
chapter  in  which  this  occurs — yea,  the  whole  Epistle  ; 
but  do  it  as  a  humble  scholar,  do  it  with  a  prayerful 
looking  unto  the  Lord,  that  you  may  learn  from  him- 
self the  true  method  of  becoming  a  partaker  of  his  bless- 
ing ;  for  our  own  reason  will  be  here  of  no  avail,  but 
the.  sentiment  conveyed  in  the  words,  ' I  thank  thee, 
Father,  that  thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise 
and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them  unto  babes.' 

We  need  say  little  respecting  the  necessity  of  this 
blessing.  It  might  be  imagined,  that  every  one  would 
clearly  perceive  it.  Or  are  ye  the  people,  who,  after 
having  sown  or  planted  any  thing,  can  yourselves 
cause  it  to  spring  up  and  'increase  ?  Or  are  there 
princes  anywhere,  to  whom  we  may  apply,  in  order  to 
obtain -sunshine,  rain,  or  healthy  seasons?  Are  you 
yourselves  the  wise,  and  able,  and  powerful  people  on 
whom  the  direction  of  success  and  the  seasons  depends  ? 
If  so,  we  will  confess  that  you  are  little  gods.  Can 
you  impart  to  yourselves  the  impulse  .to  all 'that  is  good, 
and  hatred  to  all  that  is  evil  ?  Are  you  able  to  expel 
from  yourselves  sin,  self-love,  envy,  self-interest,  and 
unbelief?  Can  you  render  yourselves  meek,  humble, 
benevolent,  patient,  heavenly  minded  ?  If  so,  we  must 
confess  that  you  are  really  the  whole  that  need  not  a 
physician,  and  the  righteous,  who  require  no  repent- 
ance ;  confess  that  you  have  some  other  progenitor 
than  Adam  the  sinner,  and  that  consequently  you  can 
reasonably  do  without  the  second  Adam ;  that  Paul's 


SERMON   IV.  77 

assertion,  that  '  there  is  no  difference,  for  all  have  sin- 
ned, and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God,'  does  not  ex- 
tend to  you  ;  and  that  you  make  an  unheard-of  excep- 
tion. As  for  us,  we  believe  that  it  is  God  who  work- 
eth  in  us  both  to  will  and  to  do ;  that  we  are  not  suffi- 
cient as  of  ourselves  to  think  anything  good,  but  that 
our  sufficiency  is  of  God  ;  are  of  opinion  that  it  is  the 
work  of  God/when  we  believe  on  the  name  of  the  Son 
of  God;  and  think  that  Jesus  is  quite  in  the  right, 
when  he  says,  '  Ye  are  not  able  to  make  a  single  hair 
either  white  or  black.' 

When  we  call  ourselves  sinners,  we  do  so  because 
\v»  really  know  not  by  what  other  term  to  designate 
ourselves,  and  thus  nothing  is  left  us  but  to  have  re- 
course to  Him,  on  whose  neck  Jacob  hung  ;  and  to  de- 
clare with  him,  *  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  unless  thou  bless 
me !'  Do  you  know  any  better  way  1  God  himself 
said,  <  I  know  of  none.' 

Finally,  we  have  still  to  remark  the  possibility  of 
obtaining  this  blessing,  and  the  certainty  of  it  for  all 
who  are  of  Abraham's  faith.  '  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find.' 
This  cannot  be  said  with  so  much  certainty  of  earthly 
blessings,  otherwise  we  should  have  a  greater  number 
of  rich  people.  But  with  respect  to  this  blessing,  we 
are  empowered  by  supreme  authority,  even  by  the  King 
of  kings,  to  assert  that  he  that  seeketh  findeth.  Let 
him  therefore,  who  esteems  it  a  matter  of  importance, 
betake  himself  to  the  search ;  and  let  him  who  is  seek- 
ing it,  say  with  Jacob,  '  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except 
thou  bless  me.'  Of  this,  therefore,  we  have  still  to 
speak :  but  this  we  will  leave  till  another  time. 


78  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

See  to  it,  therefore,  that  ye  receive  not  the  grace1  of 
God  in  vain.  There  is  something  terrible  in  the  words, 
6  He  refused  the  blessing,  and  chose  the  curse,  therefore 
it  shall  come  upon  him.'  Terrible  are  the  words  which 
are  spoken  of  every  transgressor  of  the  law :  ';Let  him 
be  accursed.'  *  This  people  that  knoweth  not'the  law 
is  accursed.' 

. .  Beware  of  esteeming  earthly  blessings  too  highly, 
and  spiritual  ones  too  meanly }  and  know  that  you 
have  long  lain  under  the  curse,  unless  you  believe  in 
Jesus  Christ.  See  to  it  betimes,  that  the  sentence  of 
death  and  damnation  already  pronounced  upon  you  be 
not  executed,  and  that  by  the  mediation  of  Christ  it  be 
transformed  into  a  sentence  of  justification  unto  life. 
What  will  otherwise  become  of  you  ?  Wrestle  for  the 
blessing  like  Jacob,  with  all  your  strength,  and  with  all 
your  energy.  Say,  I  must  and  will  know  how  it  stands 
with  reference  to  my  soul's  salvation;  otherwise  I  will 
not  rest..  You  will  never  repent  the  labor,  although  it 
may  be  painful  to  you,  even  as  Jacob  also  experienced 
labor  and  pain.  But  how  glorious  was  the  result ;  when 
it  is  said,  '  He.  blessed  him  there.'  How  happy  you  will 
esteem  yourselves ;  with  what  thankfulness  and  joy  you 
will  point  out  the  hour,  the  opportunity,  the  place, 
where  you  will  be  assured  of  the  blessing,  become  par- 
takers of  it,  and  be  translated  from  the  kingdom  of  -lies 
mto  the  kingdom  of  truth,  and  yourselves  experience  its 
wonders !  The  Lord  will  then  remain  with  you,  and 
guide  you  safely  through  the  wilderness,  until  at  -length 
you  are  present  with  the  Lord.  Amen. 


SERMON   V. 


GENESIS  xxxii.  26. 

'And  he  said,  Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh.     And  he  said,  I 
mil  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me. 

ON  a  recent  occasion,  we  considered  the  former  part 
of  the  subject  contained  in  the  words  of  our  text.  We 
have  still  to  meditate  upon  the  conduct  of  Jacob  ex- 
pressed in  the  words.  •  1  will  not  let  thee  go,  except 
thou  bless  me." 

This  blessing  comprises  in  \t,  generally  speaking,  the 
appropriation  of  the  salvation  purchased  by  Christ,  from 
its  first  scarcely  perceptible  commencement  in  the  indi- 
vidual, to  its  completion  in  heaven ;  from  the  first  incli- 
nation of  the  will  towards  God  and  his  truth,  to  the 
^aiidmn  before  the  throne  of  the  Lamb;  from  the 
us  inquiry,  *  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  V  to  the 
being  satisfied  with  Divine  felicity  as  with  a  stream  ;  in 
which  appropriation  there  is  a  commencement,  a  con- 
tinuation, and  a  completion  observable. 

Jacob  expresses  a  strong  and  ardent  desire  for  this 
blessing.  He  does  not  however  mean  its  first  begin- 
nings ;  for  he  had  no  doubt  of  the  favor  of  God,  of  the 
forgiveness  of  his  sins,  and  that  the  renewing  of  the 
Divine  image  had  already  been  commenced  in  him. 
He  had  no  doubt  of  the  validity  of  the  blessing  received 


80  .          THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

from  his  father,  although  not  in  an  entirely  correct 
manner  ;  since  not  only  his  father,  but  God  himself,  had 
confirmed  it.  He  had  not  the  smallest  hesitation  with 
regard  to  the  Divine  sealing  of  the  promise  he  had  re- 
ceived, but  appeals  to  it  in  the  twelfth  verse,  with  all 
boldness.  He  did  not  consider  himself  as  one  in  whom 
the  Lord  had  hitherto  had  no  pleasure,  but  although  en- 
tirely unworthy  of  it,  as  the  favored  object  of  his  mercy 
and  loving  kindness,  of  which  he  had  received  the  most 
visible  and  affecting  proofs. 

But  still  he  was  not  satisfied.  He  longed  to  be  bless- 
ed in  a  superior,  more  inward,  and  profound  manner 
than  before.  And  the  Lord  himself  had  excited  this 
desire,  this  hunger,  and  this  longing  within  him.  The 
Lord  had  awakened  in  him  the  feeling  of  necessity  for 
a  superior  blessing,  for  a -more  substantial  impartation 
of  grace.  He  had  inflicted  a  deep  wound  upon  him, 
not  only  outwardly  but  inwardly  also,  which  rendered 
him  desirous  of  being  healed.  He  could  no  longer  ex- 
ist in  the  manner  he  had  done  hitherto,  nor  be  any 
longer  satisfied  with  his  state  of  grace.  He  wished  for 
more.  From  being  Jacob,  he  desired  to  become  Israel. 
The  eagle  felt  its  wings  and  wished  to  soar  aloft  with 
with  them.  It  was  with  him  as  with  the  grain  of 
wheat  in  the  lap  of  earth,  whose  germ  bursts  the  husk, 
and  springs  forth.  He  felt  as  though  what  had  been 
said  to  his  grandfather  Abraham,  had  been  also  said  to 
him :  '  Walk  before  me,  and  be  thou  perfect ;  for  I  will 
make  a  covenant  between  me  and  thee.'  From  being 
a  youth  he  wished  to  become  a  man. 

When  a  soul  is  called  from  an  inferior  to  a  higher 


SERMON  V.  81 

state  of  grace,  and  to  a  more  perfect  faith,  and  when 
Christ  is  to  be  more  completely  formed  in  the  soul,  a 
certain  pressure  precedes  .it.  This  was  also  the  case 
with  Jacob  ;  and  the  Lord  employed  a  variety  of  means 
to  produce  in  him  this  necessity  for  and  craving  after  a 
superior  communication  of  grace  and  blessing.  He  first 
gave  him  the  command  to  return  to  the  land  of  Canaan, 
where  his  father  dwelt,  and  also  his  brother  Esau,  and 
gradually  conducted  him  to  the  scene  of  conflict  where 
we  have  hitherto  contemplated  him,  and  where  wonder- 
ful but  glorious  things  occurred  to  him.  In  Mesopota- 
mia he  had  no  reason  to  trouble  himself  about  his  bro- 
ther's fury,  although  he  had  something  to  suffer  from 
the  convetousness  of  his  father-in-law ;  but  now  he 
himself,  with  all  that  was  dear  and  valuable  to  him, 
was  at  stake,  and  he  was  cast,  as  it  were,  to  the  lions. 
It  was  not  his  own  choice ;  for  tin's  would  have  been 
fool-hardy,  and  he  would  have  been  unable,  in  tliis  case, 
to  have  made  God  his  confident.  It  was  the  Lord's  own 
guidance.  To  this  Jacob  appeals  in  the  ninth  verse, 
*  Thou  saidst  unto  me,  Return  unto  thy  country.'  The 
Lord  had  also  promised  him,  saying,  *  Behold,  I  am  with 
thee,  and  will  keep  thee  in  all  places  whither  thou  goest.' 
(ch.  xxviii.  15.)  His  own  reason  and  his  own  will 
would  have  been  no  good  guide,  nor  do  they  lead  any 
one  aright.  Hence  the  promise  is, '  I  will  guide  thee 
with  mine  eye  ;'  *  I  will  lead  thee  into  the  wilderness, 
and  speak  comfortably  unto  thee.'  (Hosea  ii.  14.)  Hence 
David  prays,  *  Let  thy  good  Spirit  lead  me  on  a  plain 
path  ;'  and  again,  *  Turn  from  me  every  false  way, 
and  grant  me  thy  statutes.' 
8 


82  THE  WRESTLING  OF   JACOB. 

However,  Jacob  was  not  enabled  to  conduct  himself 
under  these  circumstances,  on  approaching  his  brother, 
in  a  manner  consistent  with  the  promises  he  had  re- 
ceived. By  the  Lord's  wise  permission,  a  dreadful 
fear  of  his  enraged  brother  takes  possession  of  his  soul, 
and  under  its  influence  he  acts,  in  some  respects,  too 
much  like  a  natural  man  ;  but  in  others,  in  an  exem- 
plary manner.  The  feeling  of  fear  was  not  only  pain- 
ful in  itself,  but  one  might  have  supposed  it  could  not 
have  seized  such  a  man  as  Jacob.  Doubtless  he  him- 
self regarded  it  as  something  unbecoming,  improper, 
and  even  absurd,  and  for  which  there  was  no  cause,  and 
by  giving  way  to  which  he  might  act  derogatorily  to 
the  faithfulness,  power,  and  promise  of  the  Lord.  But 
these  considerations  were  insufficient  to  tranquilize 
him  ;  his  reason  looked  too  much  at  that  which  was 
seen,  and  too  little  at  that  which  is  invisible  — too  much 
upon  Esau,  too  little  upon  God ;  and  he  could  not  divest 
himself  of  it.  And  what  was  the  result  ? — a  struggle, 
and  the  desire  that  the  Son  would  make  him  free. 
Until  he  obtained  this,  he  acted  with  too  much  human 
prudence.  Hence  his  humble  message  to  his  brother. 
Hence  his  submissive  and  excessive  courteousness,  in 
commanding  Esau  to  be  always  called  his  Lord,  but 
himself  his  servant ;  hence  the  prudent  division  of  his 
family  and  his  flocks  into  two  parts,  in  order  to  save  at 
least  one  of  them ;  hence  the  placing  the  present  in- 
tended for  him  in  the  first  rank,  and  the  instructing  all 
his  domestics  to  address  Esau  in  a  highly  complimenta- 
ry manner.  He  did  everything  to  rid  himself  of  his 
fear,  and  yet  it  is  said,  «  Jacob  was  greatly  afraid  and 


SERMON   V.  83 

distressed.'  And  certainly,  it  was  not  for  him  to  deliver 
himself  from  it  ;  this  honor  belongs  to  the  Son  of  God 
alone.  Jacob's  anxiety  was  doubtless  rendered  still 
more  painful  by  the  reproaches  of  his  enlightened  un- 
derstanding on  account  of  it,  which  prescribed  an  en- 
tirely different  line  of  conduct  to  him,  and  a  deport- 
ment consistent  with  the  many  proofs  of  Divine  favor 
which  he  had  received,  and  which  were  similar  to 
those  expressed  by  David  in  Psalm  xci.  :  *  Though  a 
thousand  should  fall  at  thy  side,  and  ten  thousand  at 
thy  right  hand,  yet  it  shall  not  come  nigh  thee.  Only 
with  thine  eyes  shalt  thou  behold  and  see  the  reward 
of  the  wicked.  No  evil  shall  befall  thee,  neither  shall 
any  plague  come  nigh  thy  dwelling,  for  he  hath 
given  his  angels  charge  over  thee  to  keep  thee  in  all 
thy  ways.'  How  much  had  Jacob  in  his  favor  ! — his 
father's  blessing,  which  God  himself  had  confirmed  ; 
the  remarkable  vision  of  the  heavenly  ladder  during  his 
flight  ;  and  the  glorious  promise  of  the  blessing,  which 
should  extend  itself  to  all  nations  through  the  medium 
of  his  posterity. 

The  many  temporal  blessings  which  the  Lord  had  be- 
stowed upon  him  in  such  a  visible  manner,  during  his 
residence  with  Laban  ;  the  express  command  to  return, 
with  the  promise  of  protection ;  the  wonderful  change 
produced  in  Laban,  who,  notwithstanding  his  furious 
rage,  was  not  permitted  to  speak  an  unkind  word  to 
him ;  the  meeting  of  a  host  of  protecting  angels  at 
Mahanaim  ;  and  yet  to  be  the  subject  of  fear— of  such 
great  fear — was  evidently  not  right,  was  a  proof  that 
Jacob  did  not  yet  possess  a  perfect  faith ;  that  he  had 


84  THE  WRESTLING    OF  JACOB. 

not  apprehended  this  golden  chain  of  promises  as  he 
ought.  There  were  promises  enough,  but  not  sufficient 
faith.  <  He  that  feareth,'  says  John,  1  Ep.  iv.  18,  '  is 
not  made  perfect  in  love.  Fear  hath  torment ;  but  per- 
fect love  casteth  out  fear.'  Perfect  faith  does  not  make 
haste,  nor  does  it  flee,  through  fear.  He  that  can  say 
with  the  Psalmist,  c  God  is  my  refuge  and  strength' — 
can  also  say,  '  Therefore  will  we  not  fear,  though  the 
earth  be  removed,  and  though  the  mountains  be  carried 
into  the  midst  of  the  sea.'  But  Jacob  had  not  yet  at- 
tained this  standing ;  we  must  beware,  however,  of 
supposing  that  perhaps  only  a  single  saint  in  a  century 
attains  to  it,  and  that  it  cannot  be  attained  by  others 
because  we  ourselves  have  not  yet  arrived  at  it.  .  For 
such  thoughts  are  base,  derogatory  to  God  and  his 
grace,  and  resting-places  for  the  flesh. 

Jacob  was  conscious  that  his  faith  was  not  in  accord- 
ance with  the  promise.  All  his  prudent  measures  were 
unable  in  the  smallest  degree  to  expel  his  fear,  which 
laughed,  like  Job's  leviathan,  at  the  shaking  of  the 
spear.  All  his  endeavors  to  compose  and  tranquilize 
his  mind  were  fruitless,  and  only  increased  his  fear  and 
disturbance,  instead  of  lessening  it.  O  happy  failure  of 
his  own,  self-potent  striving  to  help  and  amend  himself ! 
Happy  is  he  whose  own  strength,  wisdom,  and  right- 
eousness is  dislocated  in  the  struggle,  and  who  has  no 
other  alternative  than  to  cast  himself  entirely  into  the 
arms  of  Jesus ! 

Thus  it  fared  with  Jacob.  His  distressing  condition 
outwardly,  and  his  still  greater  inward  distress,  which 
he  was  unable  of  himself  to  remove,  compelled  him  to 


RF.RMON  V.  85 

have  wourse  to  the  Lord  by  prayer;  in  which  he  un- 
folds the  state  of  his  mind,  and  candidly  confesses  that 
he  was  afraid  of  his  brother  Esau.  At  the  same  time 
he  intreats  a  superior  communication  of  grace.  Per- 
haps it  was  more  in  the  manner  of  groanings  which  can- 
not be  uttered,  than  of  clearly  experienced  and  plainly 
expressed  requests — a  moaning  of  the  new  creature — 
which  airain.xt  its  will  lay  in  bondage  to  vanity — after 
the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God ;  a  longing 
alter  something  better,  of  which  he  could  not  himself 
form  any  clear  conception. 

But  He  who  searcheth  the  heart,  well  knew  what 
was  the  mind  of  the  Spirit.  He  himself  had  implanted 
in  him  this  superior  hunger  after  righteousness,  and 
produced  this  urgency  of  spirit  in  him.  Even  as  the 
hart  panteth  after  the  water-brooks,  so  his  soul  panted 
after  God.  His  soul  thirsted  for  God,  for  the  living  God, 
that  he  might  come  and  appear  before  God,  to  see  his 
power  and  his  glory,  so  as  he  had  seen  it  in  the  sanctu- 
ary. His  heart  would  have  been  delighted  to  have 
been  able  to  praise  the  Lord  with  joyful  lips.  He 
sought  retirement  He  prayed  and  wept,  as  Hosea 
says  ;  he  could  not  properly  say  what  he  required  ;  it 
was  not  merely  fear,  but  also  its  peculiar  source,  of 
which  he  wished  to  be  divested.  His  heart,  not  yet 
established  in  perfect  faith,  and  still  unable  properly  to 
apprehend  God  in  his  promises,  travailed,  as  it  were,  in 
the  spiritual  birth — as  the  Savior  says — by  which 
something  new  was  to  be  produced  in  the  soul. 

But  it  was  only  after  the  Lord  had  laid  hold  of  him 
in  such  a  manner,  that  his  travail  really  commenced. 
•8* 


86  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

The  Lord  himself  struggled  with  him.  His  sin  and  im- 
worthiness  was  deeply  unfolded  to  him ;  but  at  the 
same  time  his  cleaving  to  the  Lord,  and  his  craving  for 
a  blessing,  became  so  urgent  that  he  could  not  refrain, 
whatever  might  be  the  result.  Although  in  the  most 
wretched  plight,  and  deprived  of  all  strength,  he  still 
exclaimed,  "  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless 
me  1  I  cannot  possibly  let  thee  go  without  it;  I  will  and 
must  have  a  special  blessing." 

The  Lord  was  also  willing  to  impart  it,  and  he  there- 
fore prepared  him  for  it,  by  depriving  him  of  every 
other  support,  that  the  Lord  himself  might  be  his  rod 
and  his  staff.  He  divested  him  of  all  strength,  that  he 
might  find  it  in  the  Son  of  God  alone.  It  was  necessa- 
ry that  he  should  feel  the  impossibility  of  expelling 
fear,  notwithstanding  the  Divine  promise  which  had 
been  given,  and  likewise  that  he  might  seek  and  ex- 
pect the  changing  pf  his  heart,  the  pacifying  of  his  soul, 
and  everything  else  from  the  Lord  alone.  He  decreas- 
ed, and  Christ  increased ;  he  became  little  and  no- 
thing, that  the  Lord  might  be  great,  might  be  all ;  thus 
on  his  dying-bed  he  was  able  to  confess  and  say,  ( He 
hath  redeemed  me  from  all  evil,'  and  not  I  myself; 
even  as  he  expressed  his  whole  inward  state  in  the 
words,  '  O  Lord,  I  wait  for  thy  salvation !' 

In  a  similar  manner  the  Lord  has  acted  towards 
others,  to  whom  he  intended  to  manifest  his  glory  more 
folly.  Take,  for  example,  the  disciples.  The  Lord 
had  still  much  to  say  to  them,  but  they  could  not  then 
bear  it,  they  were  not  able  to  apprehend  it.  It  would 
have  appeared  irrational  to  them;  they  could  not 
have  received  it ;  the  Savior  therefore,  was  wisely  si- 


SERMON   V.  87 

lent,  and  had  patience,  until  the  Spirit  should  come  and 
lead  them  into  all  truth.  But  what  took  place  in  their 
souls  before  this  more  glorious  manifestation  of  Christ  1 
The  Lord  himself  hints  at  it  in  John  xvi.  21,  where  he 
says,  '  A  woman,  when  she  is  in  travail,  hath  sorrow,  be- 
cause her  hour  is  come ;  but  as  soon  as  she  is  delivered 
of  the  child,  she  remembereth  no  more  the  anguish,  for 
joy  that  a  man  is  born  into  the  world.  And  ye  now, 
therefore,  have  sorrow ;  but  I  will  see  you  again,  and 
your  heart  shall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  man  taketh  from 
you.'  And  Paul  says  to  the  Galatians,  *  My  little 
children,  of  whom  I  travail  in  birth  again,  until  Christ 
be  formed  in  you.'  The  disciples,  in  consequence  of 
the  sufferings  of  Jesus,  were  themselves  plunged  into 
profound  and  unwonted  suffering.  The  entire  edifice  of 
their  hopes  was  overthrown,  and  nothing  remained  but 
the  foundation  which  God  himself  had  laid  in  them. 
But  the  other  foundation  of  sinful  nature  also  manifest- 
ed itself  in  them,  in  a  manner  they  could  not  have  be- 
lieved. They  had  long  indeed  regarded  themselves  as 
sinners ;  but  at  the  same  time,  as  far  better  men  than 
they  were  now  obliged  to  acknowledge.  They  were 
offended  at  Jesus,  who  had,  nevertheless,  pronounced 
him  blessed  who  should  not  be  offended  in  him ;  they 
were  offended  at  Jesus,  although  they  had  regarded  it  as 
impossible;  and  therefore  pertinaciously  contradicted 
him,  when  he  told  them  beforehand,  that  such  would  be 
the  case.  "  That  will  never  happen,"  answered  they, 
"  we  are  too  much  devoted  to  thee."  But  when  put  to 
the  test,  they  all  forsook  him',  and  endeavored  to  keep  it 
a  secret  that  they  had  ever  been  his  disciples ;  they 


00  THE  WRESTLING  OF   JACOB. 

were  afraid  of  their  Esau-brethen,  and  apprehensive  lest 
their  mother's  children  should  smite  them ;  nay,  they 
even  began  to  consider  their  hope,  that  Jesus  would  de- 
liver Israel,  as  groundless,  and  to  suppose  that  the  Jews 
had  succeeded  in  their  devices  against  him  to  an  ex- 
tent he  had  not  anticipated. 

All  this  took  place  in  their  old  man,  in  their  natural 
heart  and  understanding.  But  what  was  the  new  man 
doing  meanwhile  ?  It  mourned  and  wept,  as  Jesus 
had  predicted ;  it  travailed  in  birth,  but  there  was  no 
strength  to  bring  forth.  It  would  gladly  have  elevated 
itself  to  a  higher  degree  of  faith ;  but  both  the  requisite 
power  and  light  were  wanting  for  this  purpose.  They 
mourned  and  wept  in  the  distress  and  anxiety  of  their 
hearts,  and  were  like  a  ship  upon  the  stormy  sea, 
tossed  hither  and  thither  by  the  waves,  without  an  an- 
chor, and  without  any  harbor  in  sight.  There  was  an 
end  to  the  cause  of  Jesus,  and  to  them  along  with  it. 
A  man  wrestled  with  them,  to  drive  them  from  the 
spot,  and  to  confuse  them  with  respect  to  God,  to  Jesus, 
to  the  kingdom  of  God,  to  all  the  promises,  and  to 
themselves.  The  Bridegroom  was  taken  away  from 
them,  and  the  time  to  fast  had  arrived.  But  what  fol- 
lowed? A  superior  manifestation  of  the  glory  of 
Christ;  a  view  which  they  had  not  previously  pos- 
sessed ;  a  faith,  of  which  they  were  before  ignorant ; 
a  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  of  which  they  had  till 
then  been  deficient ;  a  humility  and  a  confidence,  a 
resignation  and  a  wisdom,  to  which  they  had  before 
been  utter  strangers. 

'  I  have  chosen  thee  in  the  furnace  of  affliction,'  says 


SERMON   V.  89 

the  Lord,  by  the  prophet  (Isa.  xlviii.  10.)  He  who 
desires  to  be  raised  with  Christ,  must  first  be  taken 
captive  with  him  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane ;  bound 
round  about  with  grief,  so  that  he  cannot  move,  that  he 
may  be  absolved  before  a  Divine  and  human  tribunal ; 
be  condemned  by  the  law  and  his  conscience,  that  he 
may  be  pronounced  righteous;  and  be  crucified  and 
slain,  in  order  that  he  may  live  unto  God.  True  felicity 
does  not  consist  in  words,  but  in  the  fruits  of  repent- 
ance and  faith ;  in  the  essential  experience  both  of  sin 
and  faith ;  of  self  and  the  living  God.  Such  is  also  the 
experience  of  all  those  Christians  who  are  predesti- 
nated and  called  to  become  conformed  to  the  Son  of 
God.  After  they  have  passed  through  the  first  stage  of 
repentance — after  entering  through  the  narrow  gate 
into  the  kingdom  of  God — after  being  joyfiilly  assured 
of  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  and  believing  in  Christ  and 
his  grace — much  is  given  them  to  enjoy.  The  Bride- 
groom is  with  the  children  of  the  bride  chamber; 
therefore  how  can  they  mourn  ?  A  beautiful  robe  is 
put  upon  them,  and  shoes  on  their  feet ;  a  feast  is  pre- 
pared, and  singing  and  dancing  are  heard.  Their  as- 
surance of  their  state  of  grace  is  firm ;  their  joy  is  heart- 
felt ;  and  they  say  to  others  also, '  Come  hither,  ye 
that  seek  God  ;J  they  feel  a  power  which  induces  them 
to  use  the  confident  language  of  Paul,  (  In  all  these 
things  we  are  more  than  conquerors,  through  him  that 
hath  loved  us ;'  a  courage  which  shuns  no  reproach  of 
the  world,  no  suffering,  no  death,  no  devil ;  a  heavenly- 
mindedness,  which  feels  a  disgust  at  all  that  is  vain ;  a 
relish  for  reading  the  Scriptures,  that  induces  them  to 
break  off  many  an  hour  even  from  sleep ;  a  delight  in 


90  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

prayer,  so  that  hours  fly  like  moments,  and  they  leaVe 
it  with  regret ;  a  communication  of  grace,  which  their 
mortal  tabernacle  is  scarcely  able  to  endure  ;  a  readi- 
ness to  suffer,  which  makes  them  willing  to  beg  their 
bread,  and  to  give  all  they  have  to  the  poor ;  a  disgust 
at  sin,  which  borders  upon  indignation ;  a  facility  in 
every  good  work,  which  causes  them  heartily  to  recom- 
mend the  yoke  of  Christ  as  easy  and  his  burden  as  light. 
O  how  happy  do  they  then  feel !  They  think  they 
must  tell  it  to  every  one,  that  others  may  also  set  out 
in  quest  of  such  a  felicity ;  they  desire  that  all  should 
possess  it,  and  even  torment  the  still  unconverted  mem- 
bers of  their  households  with  unceasing  persuasions  to 
be  converted :  just  as  if  it  were  the  work  of  man ;  and 
they  exclaim,  '  Ho,  all  the  world,  come  hither !  here 
ye  may  see  that  God  is  gracious  without  any  merit  of 
your  own !'  If  experienced  Christians  put  in  a  word,  and 
tell  them  that  a  change  will  take  place  with  them,  they 
ca*nnot  believe  it.  But  how  should  they  fast,  as  long  as 
the  Bridegroom  is  with  them  ?  Rather  call  unto  them, 
and  say,  '  Rejoice,  thy  King  cometh !'  The  Lord,  by 
his  only-begotten  Son,  has  caused  their  mountain  to 
stand  strong.  They  say,  We  shall  never  be  afraid ;  but 
when  He  hides  his  face  they  are  troubled.  This  is,  as 
it  were,  the  welcome  on  entering  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Like  the  children  of  Israel,  after  their  departure  from 
Egypt,  and  their  passage  through  the  Red  Sea,  they 
come  to  Elim,  with  its  twelve  fountains  of  water,  and 
its  seventy  palm  trees,  and  encamp  there.  But  from 
thence  the  whole  congregation  removes  into  the  desert, 
which  leads  them  to  Sinai  (Exod.  xvi.)  The  refresh- 
ing seasons  decline,  and  often  intermit  with  times  of 


SERMON  V.  91 

great  barrenness.     The  individual   at  one   time  feels 
great  strength,  and  finds  himself  at  another  in  the  most 
deplorable  impotency.     At  one  time  he  possesses  great 
courage,  and  at  another  the  same  degree  of  timidity ; 
at  one  time  he  can  call  Jesus  his,  and  at  another  not ; 
at  one  time  he  feels  himself  very  able  to  make  a  sacred 
surrender  of  himself,  and  at  another  by  no  means  dis- 
posed for  it.     He  at  length  becomes  extremely  weary 
of  this  continual  vicissitude,  and  inquires  if  it  be  im- 
possible for  the  heart  to  be  established ;  if  only  a  Paul 
could  say,  '  I  know  iri  whom  I  have  believed,'  and  am 
persuaded  and  assured;  if  that  faith  be  unattainable 
which  the  Apostle  describes  as  the  *  substance  of  tilings 
hoped  for,  the   evidence  of  things  not  seen ;'  if  we 
ought  not  in  the  present  day,  according  to  the  rule  laid 
down  by  the  Apostle  John,  to  believe  the  love  which 
God  has  towards  us  in  Christ,  and  experience  that  fear 
is  not  in  love,  and  must  be  expelled  by  the  latter ;  and 
if  we  may  have  boldness  even  in  the  day  of  judgment : 
and  then  he  asks,  "  Shall  I  only  be  unable  to  attain  to 
it,  seeing  that  with  God  nothing  is  impossible,  although 
in  myself  I  am  incompetent  to  any  thing  that  is  good, 
and  inclined  to  all  that  is  evil  ?     Is  that  state  of  grace, 
described  by  the  Apostle,  no  longer  attainable  in  the 
present  day,  in  which  the  individual  is  free  from  an 
evil  conscience,  and  is  able  to  come  boldly  to  a  throne 
of  grace;  and  where  he  speaks  of  a  rest  in  God,  and 
a  cleaving  to  the  Lord,  by  means  of  which  we  become 
one  Spirit  with  him  ?"     In  short,  he  is  compelled  to 
believe  that  -there  is  something  higher,  more  glorious, 
and  blissful  in  religion,  than  what  he,  or  even  others, 
have  yet  experienced ;  and  he  feels  within  him  an  ar- 


92  THE    WRESTLING   OF    JACOB. 

dent  longing  after  this  substantial  and  permanent  state, 
although  he  sees  and  acknowledges  himself  unworthy 
of  it ;  although  it  rests  with  the  Lord's  free  grace 
whether  he  be  pleased  to  lead  him  out  of  his  present 
straitened  and  contracted  position  into  greater  liberty ; 
and  he  counts  those  elect  souls  particularly  happy,  who 
through  grace  have  attained  to  it ;  from  whence  he 
learns  to  believe,  that  the  most  honor  is  frequently  put 
upon  those  members  which  are  thought  to  be  less  honor- 
able, and  that  no  one  has  reason  to  despair  on  account 
of  his  un  worthiness,  because  the  reward  is  not  of  works, 
but  of  grace. 

Those  souls,  which  in  an  especial  manner  hunger  and 
thirst  after  righteousness,  and  to  whom  the  promise  is 
given  that  they  shall  be  satisfied,  experience  a  disgust,  a 
certain  dissatisfaction  with  their  former  standing  in  god- 
liness ;  and  in  all  their  good  exercises,  they  feel  much 
poverty,  and  can  no  longer  continue  them  in  their  cus- 
tpmary  manner  ;  they  see  too  clearly  the  self-love  and 
self-righteousness  which  intermingle  themselves  in 
every  thing  ;  they  detest  their  own  working,  although 
they  cannot  yet  give  it  up  ;  they  also  perceive  that 
pleasing  feelings  do  not  constitute  the  essential  part  of 
religion.  They  languish  until  the  Son  makes  them 
truly  free,  till  salvation  shall  come  upon  Israel  out  of 
Zion,  and  the  Lord  deliver  his  captive  people.  The  man 
here  obtains  a  much  deeper  insight  into  the  corruption 
and  depravity  of  his  own  heart,  into  that  dreadful  self- 
love  and  self-righteousness  which  pervades  us,  into  the 
amazing  unbelief  in  which  we  are  immersed,  and  is 
compelled  to  consider  all  that  proceeds  from  himself  as 
a  mere  hindrance.  The  case  is  now  the  same  with  him 


SERMON  V. 

93 

as  with  Jacob,  when  his  hip  was  out  of  joint,  and  when 
he  was  thus  deprived  of  all  ability  to  stand  and  to  contin- 
ue the  combat ;  so  that  only  the  choice  was  left  him  eith- 
er to  fall  helpless  into  the  hands  of  his  infuriated  brother, 
or  to  cast  himself  upon  the  neck  of  his  opponent.  No- 
thing now  remains  for  him  but  to  place  his  hope  and  con- 
fidence entirely  upon  the  Lord,  and  to  say  with  Jacob, 
•*  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me — bless  me 
with  a  superior  light  than  has  hitherto  shone  upon  me, 
by  which  I  may  duly  view  thee,  my  Savior,  as  elevated 
upon  the  cross,  with  a  stedfast  peace,  which  shall  keep 
my  heart  and  mind  in  Christ  Jesus  instead  of  the  constant 
mental  disturbance  I  have  hitherto  experienced :  with  a 
complete  faith,  which  receives  out  of  thy  fulness  grace 
upon  grace,  and  abides  in  thee  as  the,branch  in  the  vine ; 
which  affords  an  entire  and  constant  assent  to  the  work  - 
of  redemption,  and  perseveres  in  it,  so  that  I  have  a  sure 
rnniklence  that  thou  wilt  bless  me  with  such  a  real  fel- 
lowship and  intercourse  with  thee,  as  to  enable  me  to  pray 
without  ceasing,  offer  thanks  unto  thee,  and  thus  glorify 
thee." 

Such  is  Jacob's  prayer, 6 1  will  not  let  thee  go,' — a 
prayer  to  be  used  not  only  in  the  beginning,  but  also  in 
the  progress  of  the  life  of  grace.  Happy  is  he  who  em- 
ploys it  in  both  cases,  and  to  whom  light  rises  in  darkness ! 

May  the  Lord  bestow  his  blessing  upon  us  all  ;  begin 
his  work  in  those  souls  where  it  is  not  yet  commenced  ; 
and  where  it  is  already  begun,  carry  it  on  until  the 
dawning  of  the  perfect  day.  May  complete  knowledge 
and  faith,  a  perfect  cure  and  perfect  love,  be,  by  grace, 
the  lot  of  all  of  us  !  Amen. 
9 


SERMON    VI. 

GENESIS  XXXII.  27.  • 

And  he  said  unto  him,  What  is  thy  name?     And  he  said, 
Jacob. 

JACOB  had  assured  the  Lord,  that  he  would  not  let  him 
go,  without  first  receiving  his  blessing ;  and,  in  the 
words  of  our  text,  we  find  the  preparation  for  the  re- 
ception of  that  which  he  desired.  The  Lord's  sole  in- 
tention was  to  impart  to  the  Patriarch  a  superior  bless- 
ing to  anything  he  had  previously  enjoyed.  But  ob- 
serve what  a  singular  way  he  takes  for  this  purpose. 
It  seems  as  if  he  intended  his  entire  ruin — nay,  it  not 
only  seems  so,  but  is  so  in  reality.  Jacob  is  driven 
more  and  more  into  straits.  He  is  afraid  of  Esau,  and 
the  promises  he  has  received,  no  longer  serve  to  tran- 
quilize  his  mind.  In  this  way,  many  an.  individual 
miscalculates,  upon  whom  the  promises  are 'impressed 
in  a  particularly  lively  manner.  He  looks  upon  them 
as  a  capital,  upon  which  he  can  draw  in  the  season  of 
distress,  and  carefully  notes  them  down,  in  order  to  re- 
fresh and  encourage  himself  with  them  when  he  re- 
quires it.  But  the  manna  thus  laid  up,  refuses  to  per- 
form its  office.  The  word,  indeed,  continues  the  same ; 
but,  as  the  Spirit  is  not  with  it,  it  produces  no  more 
effect  than  in  the  case  of  Jacob,  who  was  afraid  not- 
withstanding ;  and  this  is  likewise  productive  of  good. 


SERMON    VI.  95 

In  the  most  pitiable  situation,  and  whilst  hanging  on 
the  neck  of  his  opponent,  his  desire  for  a  superior  bless- 
ing is  increased  ;  and  it  is  then  suggested  to  him,  to  let 
<'o,  who  can  alone  bestow  it.  Thus  it  may  also 
seem,  as  if  Jesus  did  not  trouble  himself  about  the  grief 
of  soul  which  the  individual  experiences,  and  it  si-cm.- 
as  if  he  would  be  suffered  to  remain  in  it.  But  the 
Lord's  intention  is  to  make  the  man  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  the  real  source  from  whence  every  bless- 
ing flows,  deeply  to  convince  him  of  the  insufficiency 
of  all  self  amendment,  and  to  heal  him  of  it. 

Jacob  now  implores  a  blessing,  but  he  does  not  re- 
ceive it  instantaneously ;  for  the  Lord  enters  into  a  con- 
tion  with  him,  which  causes  delay.  Pious  souls 
lui  1-4  also  be  satisfied  to  wait  in  like  manner.  They 
easily  suppose,  that  when  they  have  prayed  once  or  a 
few  times,  with  earnestness  and  fervor,  for  some  parti- 
mi  ar  blessing,  it  must  immediately  be  bestowed,  or 
«-ls»-  they  become  apprehensive  that  their  prayer  is  not 
of  the  right  kind,  and  their  state  of  grace  uncertain. 
But,  friend,  though  thou  knowest  it  not,  thou  art  per- 
haps not  yet  poor — not  yet  humbled  enough.  Look  at 
Jacob  !  When  does  he  conquer?  When  is  he  bh  M  f. 
Only  when  his  hip  is  dislocated,  and  no  more  strength 
is  left  him.  Probably  the  Lord  intends  by  it  *  that  thou 
mayest  remember,  and  be  confounded,  and  never  open 
thy  mouth  any  more,  because  of  thy  shame,  when  he 
is  pacified  toward  thee  for  all  that  thou  hast  done.' 
Thou  must,  therefore,  force  thyself  to  be  content, 
whether  thou  wilt  or  not. 

'  And  he  said  unto  him.  What  is  thy  name  ?'     Who 


96  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

was  it  that  asked  the  question  ?  It  is  remarkable,  that 
in  1  Kings  xviiL  31,  it  is  said,  that  '  the  word  of  the 
Lord'  uttered  this.  We  call  this  remarkable,  because 
John,  as  is  well  known,  calls  the  Son  of  God,  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  by  this  appellation.  We  are,  however, 
already  acquainted  with  the  inquirer. 

He  asks  the  name  of  the  Patriarch — not  from  igno- 
rance, as  if  he  knew  not  his  name,  since  he  had  known 
and  loved  him  from  everlasting,  and  by  his  providence 
had  so  arranged  it,  that  this  name  should  be  given  him ; 
and  he  put  the  question  for  Jacob's  sake,  in  order  to 
instruct  him  respecting  the  signification  of  his  name, 
and  to  induce  him  to  reflect  upon  the  occasion  of  its  be- 
ing given  him ;  which  was,  that  at  his  birth,  he  held 
his  twin  brother  Esau  by  the  heel.  His  birth  reminded 
him  of  the  word  of  the  Lord,  which  hr.d  been  spoken 
to  his  mother — '  The  elder  shall  serve  the  younger  ;' 
which  Rebecca  had  certainly  not  concealed  from  him, 
but  had  probably  made  the  chief  inducement  for  him  to 
consent  to  the  surreptitious  mode  of  obtaining  the  bless- 
ing in  preference  to  his  brother  Esau.  But  if  Jacob 
had  forgotten,  the  Lord  was  not  unmindful  of  it ;  if 
Jacob  could  not  cleave  firmly  to  it,  the  Lord  held  him- 
self bound  by  it :  '  For  the  mountains  may  depart,  and 
the  hills  be  removed ;  but  my  kindness  shall  not  depart 
from  thee,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace  be 
removed.' 

The  Patriarch  was  to  derive  encouragement  also 
from  the  signification  of  his  name.  It  means  a  sup- 
planter.  Hence  his  brother  said  of  him,  after  he  had 
deprived  him  of  his  father's  blessing, f  Is  not  he  rightly 


SEKMON  VI.  97 

named  Jacob,  for  he  hath  supplanted  me  these  two 
times.  He  took  away  my  birthright,  and  behold  now 
he  hath  taken  away  my  blessing.'  (Gen.  xxvii.  36.) 
This  name  ought  therefore  to  have  imparted  courage 
and  confidence  to  the  Patriarch,  that  Esau  would  not 
overcome  him.  But  when  we  are  in  difficulties  and 
darkness,  what  do  we  think  of?  Chiefly  of  that  only 
which  is  calculated  to  increase  them — the  law  and  its 
threateiiings  ;  and  if  we  call  the  promises  to  mind,  they 
take  no  effect,  however  sweet  they  may  have  been  to 
us. 

Jacob  might  also  think  thus  with  himself:  "  How 
canst  thou  derive  encouragement  from  thy  name,  which 
chance  and  human  choice  has  given  thee  ?  If  God 
himself  had  ordered  thee  to  be  called  so,  the  case  would 
have  been  different."  Thus  many  act  also  with  the 
promises.  They  think  that  they  only  accidentally  oc- 
cur to  them ;  that  they  have  read  or  heard  them  some- 
where, or  learnt  them  by  heart.  But  it  would  be 
strange,  and  at  the  same  time  a  loss  to  the  diligent  read- 
ers of  the  Scriptures,  if  they  were  not  at  liberty  to  de- 
benefit  from  those  promises,  with  which  the\ 
already  acquainted.  David  acted  otherwise.  He 
pleaded  the  Lord's  word  with  him,  and  then  expected, 
in  a  prayerful  frame,  its  fulfilment.  But  why  should 
promises  be  suggested  to  us,  if  we  are  not  enabled,  at 
the  same  time,  duly  to  act  upon  them  ? 

Jacob  perhaps  also  thought,  "  Why  this  question  ?  I 
ask  for  a  blessing,  and  he  inquires  my  name.     I  should 
have  preferred  no  such  delay,  but  the  immediate  fulfil- 
ment of  the  desire  of  my  heart !"     But  he  was  never- 
9* 


THE    WRESTLING    OF    JACOB. 


theless  obliged  to  consent  to  it.  God  does  all  things 
well  in  due  time,  and  this  must  be  waited  for,  however 
inconvenient  it  may  be.  Mary  said,  '  They  have  no 
wine;'  and  received  for  answer,  'My  hour  is  not  yet 
come.'  Strange  arrangements  are  then  made ;  wine  is 
wanted,  and  large  vessels  are  filled  with  water ;  but  in 
the  end,  wine  is  furnished  of  the  best  quality.  It  often 
goes  to  great  lengths,  before  a  very  favorable  result. 
The  sick  daughter  of  Jairus  dies  before  Jesus  affords  his 
aid.  Lazarus  not  only  dies  but  putrefies,  before  it  is 
manifest  that  his  sickness  was  not  unto  death.  The  in- 
dividual imagines  that  his  help  is  arrived,  and  begins 
to  sing  hymns  of  praise  ;  but  whilst  supposing  that  the 
path  will  now  lead  to  the  right,  his  guide  turns  to  the 
left,  until  he  at  length  learns  to  let  himself  be  led, 
without  seeing  before  him,  or  caring  whether  the  pillar 
of  cloud  and  of  fire  goes  forward  or  rests. 

*  What  is  thy  name  ?'  Was  the  Lord  ignorant  of  it  ? 
and  if  not,  why  did  he  ask,  and  appear  as  if  he  knew 
it  not  ?  We  may  well  ask,  "  Why  does  the  Lord  often 
seem  to  renounce  his  own  attributes,  and  suffer  us  to 
pray  and  cry  as  though  he  heard  us  not ;  even  as  the 
Syrophoenician  woman  cried  long  before  a  sound  was 
given  her  in  reply  ?  But  how  does  this  agree  with  his 
promise  in  Psalm  i.  15 :  f  Call  upon  me  in  the  day  of 
trouble  ;  I  will  deliver  thee.'  And  that  in  Isaiah  Ixv. 
24  ;  '  Before  they  call  I  will  answer.'  If  he  is  so  full 
of  mercy  and  compassion,  why  does  he  exercise  many 
with  the  severest  sufferings,  and  heed  neither  cries  nor 
tears  ?  If  his  ability  is  so  great  and  his  strength  so  in- 
exhaustible, why  does  his  church  still  find  reason  to 


SERMON  VI.  99 

( 'omplain  :  'O  thou,  the  hope  of  Israel,  the  Savior  there- 
of in  time  of  trouble,  why.  art  thou  as  a  stranger  in  the 
laud,  and  as  one  that  tarrieth  but  for  a  night  1.  Why 
art  thou  as  a  man  astonished,  and  as  a  strong  man  that 
cannot  help  ?  Yet  thou,  Lord,  art  in  the  midst  of  us 
and  thy  name  is  invoked  by  us.'  (Jer.  xiv.  8,  9.) 
David  prays, '  Look  upon  my  affliction,'  as  if  the  Lord 
did  not  sympathize  in  it.  The  being  placed  in  such 
circumstances  may  well  occasion  grievous  pain,  and  yet 
they  are  certainly  not  without  excellent  fruit,  though  it 
be  sown  in  tears.  Although  the  Lord  may  act  as  a 
stranger  for  a  time,  yet  we  must  not  let  this  surprise 
us ;  for  he  has  the  best  intentions  towards  us. 

'  My  name  is  Jacob,'  answered  the  Patriarch,  in  the 
simplicity  of  his  heart.  How  simple  and  childlike  may 
we  converse  with  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord  and  Friend  ; 
particularly  under  the  New  Testament  dispensation,  in 
which,  not  a  servile,  but  a  filial  spirit  reigns,  whereby 
we  cry,  Abba,  Father !  There  is  nothing  that  we  are 
not  permitted  to  tell  him  and  complain  of;  nor  need 
they  be  always  matters  of  importance — they  may  be 
also  trifling  things,  for  a  mother  listens  gladly  to  the 
lisping  of  her  children.  How  wisely  we  act,  when  we 
apply  to  him  under  every  circumstance,  and  say  to  him, 
in  few  words  or  in  many, "  I  am  at  a  loss ;  I  need  ad- 
\ire;  what  shall  I  do  ?  how  shall  I  act  in  the  most 
proper  manner  V  This  might  well  be  called  holding 
.  ninerse  with  the  Lord;  habituating  ourselves  to  him. 

*  My  name  is  Jacob.'  If  the  Lord  knew  the  name  of 
Cyrus,  the  heathen  king,  and  named  him  a  century 
and  a  half  before  his  birth,  how  much  more  may  we 


100  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

believe  that  he  knows  his  children  according  to  their 
names,  residences,  situation,  necessities,  and  circum- 
stances. If  he  has  numbered  the  hairs  of  their  heads, 
shall  he  leave  more  important  matters  unnoticed  ? 

When  Jacob  told  him  his  name,  a  new  light  proba- 
bly rose  upon  it,  that  rendered  its  signification  clear  to 
him  in  a  pleasing  manner,  and  strengthened  his  faith. 
For  it  often  requires  only  a  little  word  to  shed  light  and 
peace  in  the  soul,  and  whole  sermons  may  be  heard, 
whole  volumes  read,  and  yet  the  individual  may  con- 
tinue unedified,  as  the  Lord  pleases.  Many  a  one  is 
childish  enough  to  think,  '  If  I  had  but  heard  this 
sooner ;  if  it  had  only  occurred  to  me  sooner.'  But 
when  the  time  arrives,  the  help  we  previously  sought  in 
vain,  comes  also.  Jacob  now  found  an  encouragement 
in  his  name,  which  he  had  not  perceived  before  ;  and 
thence  saw  likewise,  that  in  our  gloomy  hours,  every- 
thing is  hid  from  us,  which  might  have  encouraged, 
and  which  was  otherwise  so  clear  as  to  be  almost  tan- 
gible to  us.  We  then  foolishly  imagine  we  shall  never 
doubt  or  despond  again.  But  what  have  we  left,  when 
he  hides  his  face  ?  The  lamp  of  our  souls  burns  only  as 
long  as  the  heavenly  householder  feeds  it  with  oil. 
We  cannot  ascribe  anything  to  ourselves ;  al]  that  is 
good  remains  the  Lord's  property,  over  which  he  retains 
the  right  of  disposal.  According  to  Heb.  viii.  3,  he  is 
a  minister  of  the  true  sanctuary.  No  man  can  receive 
anything,  except  it  be  given  him  from  heaven.  *  So 
God  ascended  from  Jacob,'  it  is  said  in  ch.  xxxvi.  13, 
and  did  not  suffer  himself  to  be  detained.  To  this  we 
gradually  accustom  ourselves,  and  are  only  glad  that 


SERMON    VI.  101 

the  Lord  is  that  he  is,  however  much  he  may  change  ; 
nay,  in  the  end  we  perceive  that  we  are  in  no  respect 
more,  when  adorned  with  his  gifts,  or  less  when  he 
withdraws  them  from  us. 

*  My  name  is  Jacob,'  said  the  Patriarch.  His  parents 
had  given  him  this  name  at  his  circumcision,  and  what- 
ever it  might  signify,  it  reminded  him  of  the  covenant 
of  grace,  of  which  circumcision  was  the  seal,  and 
the  substance  of  which  was  the  promise,  '  I  am  thy 
God.'  In  this  respect,  we  enjoy  the  same  privilege 
with  Jacob.  The  names  which  were  given  us  at  our 
baptism,  are  to  us  this  seal  of  the  new  covenant,  which 
rests  upon  far  more  excellent  promises.  An  ambassador 
in  Christ's  stead  has  naifted  us,  and  sealed  the  new  cov- 
enant to  us  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son  and  the 
Holy  Ghost.  What  more  do  we  require  or  wish  for  ? 
What  bold  claims  we  may  found  upon  God  even  from 
our  names,  since  they  remind  us  of  the  covenant  which 
God,  for  Christ's  sake  has  established  with  us.  We  are 
sinners  it  is  true  ;  but  it  is  also  true,  that  Christ  is  will- 
ling  to  wash  us  with  his  blood  and  Spirit  from  all  our  sinsj 
and  renew  our  natures  after  his  image.  But  certainly  it 
is  a  great  insult  for  a  person  to  bear  the  name  and  yet  dis- 
regard the  covenant.  Happy  is  he  whom  God  brings  in- 
to such  straits,  amd  presses  so  closely,  that  he  is  glad  to 
take  refuge  in  the  covenant  of  grace,  and  seek  the  real 
communication  of  the  glorious  blessings  which  are  pro- 
mised him  by  it.  Lo  !  God  is  willing  to  be  thy  Father, 
and  thou  shalt  be  his  child.  All  that  the  Son  of  God 
has  purchased  by  his  sufferings  and  death,  shall  be  thy 
own.  The  Holy  Spirit  shall  be  thy  teacher  and  comfort- 


102  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

er.  How  is  it  possible,  therefore,  that  thy  salvation 
should  not  be  perfect,  since  the  sacred  Trinity  itself  has 
undertaken  its  accomplishment?  Be  ashamed  of  thy 
unbelief. 

Jacob  doubtless  also  felt  a  sacred  confusion,  when 
reflecting  on  the  uncommon  condescension  of  God,  in 
entering  into  such  a  glorious  alliance  with  such  a  worm, 
in  which  he  in  reality  requires  nothing,  although  the 
contrary  may  seem  to  be  the  case — and  is  willing  to 
to  give  everything ;  and  when  he  says,  '  Walk  before 
me  and  be  thou  perfect,  he  first  directs  the  eye  of  faith 
to  himself  as  the  all  sufficient  God.  He  is  willing  to 
care  for  us,  to  cleanse  us  from  our  sins,  and  to  instruct 
and  comfort  us.  We  therefore  need  only  keep  our 
minds  in  a  tranquil  frame  ;  and  even  if  we  are  incapable 
of  doing  so,  he  will  also  bestow  this  upon  us.  We  are 
encouraged  to  cast  all  our  care  upon  him,  and  if  we  can- 
not rid  ourselves  of  care,  we  are  permitted  to  inquire  and 
say, f  How  long  shall  I  take  counsel  in  my  soul,  having 
sorrow  in  my  heart  daily  ?  How  long  shall  my  enemy  be 
exalted  over  me  I9  (Psalm  xiii.  2.\  '  Ask  of  me,'  says 
the  Lord,  '  and  I  will  give  thee  the  heathen  for  an  in- 
heritance, and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  a 
possession.'  (Psalm  ii.  8.)  What  a  gracious  alliance  is 
this,  in  which  everything  is  promised !  Well  may  it  be 
said, '  I  am  not  worthy  of  all  the.  mercy  and  the  faithful- 
ness thou  hast  manifested  towards  me.'  Who  does  not 
feel  a  desire  to  enter  into  such  a  precious  covenant,  in 
which  it  is  said,  ( Blessed  are  the  poor,  for  theirs  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  !  Blessed  are  they  that  do  hunger 
and  thirst  after  righteousness,  for  they  shall  be  filled  ; 
and  in  which  only  the  rich  and  those  that  are  full  have 


vi.  103 

no  part.  When  this  is  duly  perceived,  it.  plunges  us 
into  the  sweetest  confusion,  and  excites  a  gratitude  of  a 
very  peculiar  kind.  '  For  I  saw  thee  lying  in  thy 
blood,  and  said  unto  thee,  Live !'  Wonderful  mercy ! 

Jacob  felt  also  a  sacred  confusion  at  his  timidity. 
"  What,"  he  would  think,  "  if  God  be  for  us,  who  can 
be  against  us  !  If  Esau  had  four  thousand  men  instead 
of  four  hundred,  what  could  he  do  to  me  1  God  him- 
self has  been  unable  to  prevail  against  me,  because  his 
omnipotence  could  not  act  otherwise  than  in  accord- 
ance with  his  promise,  *  I  will  do  thee  good.'  "  0," 
he  would  think,  "  how  little  do  I  know  him — how  little 
do  I  still  apprehend  of  him  !  What  am  I  without  his 
light,  but  darkness  itself — without  his  grace,  but  weak- 
ness itself?  And  what  am  I  in  him  1  I  have  all  and 
enough  !"  How  he  would  finally  feel,,  when  he  reflect- 
ed and  thought,  "  who  gave  me  courage  for  the  con- 
flict, and  strength  to  persevere  ?"  How  wise  was  the 
whole  mode  of  treatment !  Truly  he  might  well  call 
the  place  a  Peniel.  And  humble  souls  still  experiri no- 
things of  a  similar  nature. 

"My  name  is  Jacob,"  said  the  Patriarch.  And 
what  are  we  called?  Our  names  are,  in  some  re- 
spects, very  disgraceful,  and  in  others  very  consolatory 
and  even  glorious. 

Our  names  sound  very  disgraceful ;  and  because  they 
are  given  us  by  the  true  and  faithful  word,  we  cannot 
deny  their  correctness,  without  making  the  true  God  a 
liar ;  and  what  a  horrible  sin  would  that  be  ?  But 
what  are  we  called  ?  Oh,  we  might  adduce  a  long 
catalogue  of  such  evil  names  :  we  are  reproved,  as  be- 


104  THE    WRESTLING    OF   JACOB. 

ing  unrighteous  sinners,  ungodly  backsliders,  and  diso- 
bedient ;  and  many  other  such  evil  titles  are  applied 
to  us. 

What  shall  we  do  in  this  case  1  Deny  them  ?  This 
would  be  only  rendering  them  still  more  heinous. 
Caring  not  for  them  will  also  not  avail;  for  those 
names  carry  all  of  them  their  sentence  along  with  them. 
We  ought  not  to  be  indifferent  to  them,  but  they  ought 
to  produce  in  us  a  troubled  spirit,  and  to  render  us  hum- 
ble and  contrite  in  heart ;  until  we  are  induced  to  con- 
fess our  transgressions  to  the  Lord,  justify  him  in  oppo- 
sition to  ourselves,  and  confess  that  we  are  what  these 
names  indicate,  and  nothing  else.  He  is  then  faithful, 
and  will  strengthen  us,  and  preserve  us  from  the  evil 
one.  But  ah  !  how  much  is  requisite  before  we  attain 
to  this.  How  many  attempts  are  usually  made,  in  order 
that  we  may  deserve  the  appellation  of  pious,  and  what 
distress  and  sorrow  it  occasions  when  we  do  not  suc- 
ceed !  We  strive  to  rid  ourselves  of  our  sins  by  pray- 
ing, struggling,  and  distressing  ourselves.  And  such 
attempts  are  the  more  useful,  the  more  earnest  they 
are ;  for  by  them  the  individual  learns  to  know  himself 
the  more  thoroughly,  to  seek  his  salvation  in  Christ  the 
more  exclusively,  and  to  believe,  with  the  greater  con- 
fidence on  him  who  justifies  the  ungodly.  But  certain 
it  is,  that  if  we  wish  to  understand  the  name  of  Jesus, 
we  can  do  so  in  no  other  manner  than  by  previously 
becoming  well  acquainted  with  our  own  name  of  "  Sin- 
ner." The  more  fully  we  assent  to  the  latter,  the  more 
inestimable  will  the  name  of  Jesus  be  to  us,  who  alone 
can  save  the  sinner. 


SERMON  VI.  105 

When  this  name  has  once  become  truly  precious  to 
us,  the  consolatory  names  which  are  applied  to  us  will 
also  refresh  us.  And  which  are  they  ?  The  name  of 
sinner  stands  foremost  here  also,  as  a  very  consolatory 
appellation.  But  in  what  respect?  If  God  himself 
calls  us  by  this  name,  he  'proves  by  it  that  he  expects 
nothing  -else  from  us,  as  of  ourselves,  but  what  is  in  ac- 
cordance with  this  name,  and  thereby  encourages  us  to 
present  ourselves  before  him  in  our  poverty  and  naked- 
ness. And  what  promises  are  connected  with  it!  so 
that  in  reality  I  need  be  nothing  but  a  sinner  to  appro- 
priate to  myself  the  most  glorious  things ;  for.  the  name 
of  Jesus  stands  opposite  to  it,  with  the  promise  to  save 
such  characters ;  and  this  is  a  faithful  saying.  When 
tliis  become  apparent  to  the  troubled  mind,  that  which 
previously  distressed  it,  will  impart  courage  to  it,  and  it 
will  find  in  Jesus  all  that  is.  sought  for  in  vain  in  itself. 
If  he  saves  sinners,  they  will  certainly  be  saved,  or  else 
Jesus  is  no  perfect  Savior.  The  more,  therefore,  a  per- 
son feels  and  knows  himself  to  be  a  sinner,  the  greater 
confidence  may  he  have  that  Jesus  will  save  him  from 
all  his  sin  and  misery. 

How  consolatory,  in  a  certain  sense,  is  the  appella- 
tion of  ungodly— for  God  pronounces  them  justified  ;  of 
'  lost — for  Jesus  seeks  such  characters  ;  of  needy — for 
he  will  supply  all  their  need  ;  of  afflicted—for  he  will 
comfo.rt  them  ;  of  captives — for  he  liberates  them.     In 
short,  if  we  can  only  apprehend  Jesus  at  the  same  time, 
all  these   names  will  only  serve  to  encourage  us.     If 
Jesus  therefore  asks   what  we  are  called  ;  and  we  can 
reply  in  simplicity/  and  with,  a  full  assent,  that  we  are 
10  - 


106  THE    WRESTLING   OF    JACOB. 

sinners  :  a  lovely  light  will  rise  upon  us,  even  as  upon 
Jacob,  on  mentioning  his  name.  But  if  we  resist,  if 
we  seek  to  have  a  hand  in  saving  ourselves,  and 
refuse  to  entrust  ourselves  solely  to  Jesus — we  shall 
find  nothing  but  wretchedness  and  sorrow  of  heart  in 
our  way.  But  tne  practice  of  this  is  not  so  easy  as  it 
appears.  Only  make  the  attempt,  and  you  will  find  it 
to  be  so  We  are  much  too  wise,  proud,  and  righteous 
in  our  own  esteem,  and  many  a  stroke  of  the  hammer  of 
the  law  is  requisite,  before  the  rock  of  our  heart  is  broken 
But  those  who,  renouncing  everything  of  their  own, 
seek  everything  in  Jesus,  bear  at  the  same  time  more 
glorious  appellations,  which  are  written  in  heaven. 
One  of  the  most  excellent  names  which  they  bear,  and 
which  comprises  in  it  every  other  glory,  and  is  perfect- 
ly Scriptural,  is  that  of  Christians.  We  read  that  God 
changed  the  names  of  Abraham  and  Sarah,  by  adding 
to  them  a  letter  from  his  own  name,  Jehovah,  by  which 
he  received  them  into  a  degree  of  fellowship  with  his 
glory.  But  by  our  being  called  Christians,  we  are 
placed  in  fellowship  and  relationship  with  Christ ;  and 
this  implies  much.  With  respect  to  ourselves,  we  are 
sinners ;  but  in  Christ  we  are  righteous  before  God : 
in  ourselves  we  are  weak  ;  but  united  with  Christ  we 
are  strong  and  invincible  :  in  us  we  are  wretched  ;  in 
Mm  we  are  happy  and  glorified.  But  the  mere  ima- 
gining the  thing,  is  here  of  no  avail — it  must  be  truth 
and  reality.  What,  therefore,  is  thy  name  ?  But  art 
thou  that  which  thou  callest  thyself  ?  If  so,  what 
happiness  is  thine  !  Christ  must  be  dethroned,  sooner 
than  anything  evil  can  befall  thee.  If  the  Lord  is  thy 
shepherd,  thou  shalt  not  want.  Amen. 


SERMON  VII. 


'  No  one  is  crowned,  except  he  strive  lawiully,'  ob- 
serves Paul,  in.  writing  to  Timothy  (2  Ep.  ii.  5.)  This 
he  said  in  reference  to  the  Grecian  games.  An  indi- 
vidual might  have  used  the  greatest  efforts  in  striving : 
yet  if  these  were  not  in  accordance  with  the  rules  and 
laws  of  the  conflict,  he  did  not  obtain  the  prize,  howev- 
er much  he  excelled  in  other  respects.  Such  is  also 
the  case  in  the  spiritual  course.  Augustine  says, 
*  Halting  forward  upon  the  right  path  brings  us  further 
than  running  out  of  it ;'  and  this  expresses,  in  other 
words,  the  meaning  of  Paul.  A  person  may  strive 
against  that  which  is  evil ;  he  may  use  great  exertion ; 
he  may  even  seem  to  accomplish  great  things,  and  yet 
all  be  in  vain,  because  his  efforts  are  not  in  accordance 
with  the  rules  of  the  spiritual  conflict.  *  I  fight,'  says 
the  Apostle,  *  not  as  one  that  beateth  the  air/  by 
which  no  man  is  wounded. 

What  should  we  expect  to  effect  in  natural  things  if 
wi»  used  improper  weapons ;  and  endeavored,  for  in- 
stance, to  destroy  bees  with  the  sword ;  which  is  effect- 
ed only  by  smoke  :  or  if  we  did  not  use  our  weapons  in 
a  proper  manner,  and  expected  to  wound  our  foes  with 
the  hilt,  instead  of  the  blade  of  the  sword  ?  It  is  cer- 
tain, that  in  the  spiritual  conflict,  persons  frequently  act 
thus  inconsistently,  and  therefore  accomplish  nothing  in 


108  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

reality,  even- when  they  appear  to  succeed,  or  else  are 
conscious  that  they  do  not  really  hit  the  enemy.  And 
are  not  the  frequent  complaints  of  the  little  which  is 
effected,  and  the  slow  progress  which  is  -made  in  the 
spiritual  course,  all  of  them  proofs  that  those  who  thus 
complain  do  not  strive  in  a  regular  manner  ?  He  that 
does  not,  will  not  obtain  the  crown,  as  his  own  con- 
science already  tells  him.  The  enemy  will  always  re- 
new the  challenge,  and  mock  at  him.  He  will  perceive 
that  there  is  some  cursed  thing  in  him,  in  whatever  it 
may  consist,  and  hence  he  cannot  stand  against  his  foe. 
And-this  accursed  thing  is  so  deeply  hidden,  that  the 
man  himself  does  not  perceive  it,  until  the  Holy  Spirit 
reveals  it  to  him,  and  shows  him,  at  the  same  time, 
wherein  he  is  deficient,  which  is  a  great  mercy,  since  it 
is  also  connected  with  instruction  how  he  ought  to 
fight,  in  order-  to  gain  one  victory  after  another,  and  to 
go  from  strength  to  strength.  When  Jesus  calls  his 
yoke  easy  and  his  burden  light,  every  complaint  of  reli- 
gion being  a  wearisome  thing  only  proves  that  we  do 
not  rightly  understand  the  taking  upon  ourselves  his 
yoke.  And  yet  many  seem  to  think  more  highly  of 
complaints  of  religion,  than  of  thankfulness;  and  of 
anxi.ety,  than  of  peace.  We  betake  ourselves  to  the 
conflict,  without  considering  whether  it  is  advisable  with 
ten  thousand  men  to  .oppose  him  who  comes  against  us 
with  twenty  thousand ;  and  whether  it  be  not  more 
prudent,  either  to  make  peace  with  him,  while  he  is 
still  afar  off ;  or,  if  that  cannot  be,  to  look  about  us  be- 
times for  a  powerful  ally.  Jehoshaphat  acted  thus. 
4  In  us,'  said  he,  '  there  is  no  strength ;  for  we  know . 


SERMON  VII.  109 

not  what  we  ought  to  do.'  But  instead  of  desponding- 
ly  complaining,  he  adds,  *  But  our  eyes  look  unto  thee, 
OLord!' 

Let  us  consider  our  combatant  Jacob,  and  see  whether 
we  can  learn  of  him  how  to  strive  aright. 

GENESIS   XXXII.  28. 

And  he  said,  Thy  name  shall  be  called  no  more  Jacob,  but 
Israel ;  for  as  a  prince  hast  thou  power  with  God  and  with 
men,  and  hast  prevailed. 

WE  recently  considered  the  question  put  by  the  Lord, 
*  What  is  thy  name  ?'  and  the  direct  reply  of  the  Pa- 
triarch ;  *  and  he  said,  Jacob.'  The  Lord  now  gives 
him  a  new  name,  and  says,  *  Thou  shalt  no  longer  be 
called  Jacob,  but  Israel,5  and  mentions  the  reason  for 
it ;  *  for  as  a  prince  hast  thou  power  with  God  and 
with  men,  and  hast  prevailed.' 

By  names,  we  indicate  persons  and  things,  in  order 
to  distinguish  them  from  others.  If  the  thing  becomes 
changed,  it  also  receives  another  name.  Water  when 
frozen,  we  term  ice,  snow,*and  hail ;  when  it  falls  from 
heaven — rain ;  when  it  descends  vat  night  upon  the 
plants — dew ;  and  when  it  dissolves  into  small  particles 
— mist. 

Man,  according  to  his  age,  receives  the  name  of  a 
child,  a  youth,  a  man,  and  an  old  man.  With  refer- 
ence to  God  and  his  kingdom,  he  is  either  a  sinner,  a 
wicked  man,  or  even  a  child  of  the  devil  and  an  enemy 
of  God ;  or  else  he  is  an  awakened  person,  a  penitent, 
a  believer,  a  righteous  man,  a  saint,  a  perfect  man,  a 
10* 


112.  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

from  the  dross  attached  to  it ;  and  thus  he  obtained  a 
new  name. 

'  Thy  name  shall  be  called  no  more  Jacob.'  Fear 
shall  never  again  take  possession  of  thy  heart  in  the 
same  degree,  because  thy  soul  will  cleave  to  me,  and 
thus  imbibe  my  vivifying  and  peaceful  influences.  Thou 
shalt  never  more  experience  such  great  vicissitudes  of 
fear  and  hope,  anxiety  and  joy ;  thou  shalt  be  more 
perfect  in  me  ! 

People  often  miscalculate  in  their  religious  course. 
If  they  have  happily  escaped  from  a  gloomy  vale,  and 
again  rejoice  in  their  state  of  grace ;  if  the  mists  of 
doubt  disappear  before  the  lovely  beams  of  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness,  they  often  think  they  have  now  attain- 
ed, and  believe  that  in  future  they  will  not  be  so  timid. 
But  does  not  a  degree  of  presumption  lie  in  such  an 
idea,  as  if  the  individual  could  do  this  or  that  of  him- 
self ?  and  Jesus,  who  has  said, (  Without  me  ye  can  do 
nothing,'  is  too  jealous  of  his  honor,  and  of  the  main- 
taining of  his  promises,  of  his  Jesus-name,  to  endure 
such  presumption  in  his  favorites.  He  will  therefore 
sit  as  a  refiner,  and  ..purify  the  sons  of  Levi,  even  as 
gold  and  silver  is  purified,  until  his  gold  attains  the 
purity  he  has  intended.  Perhaps  he  dislocates  their 
thigh,  and  brings  them  into  such  straits  that  they  feel 
incompetent  to  strive  without  Him,  against  a  doubt, 
whether  great  or  small ;  and  are  compelled  to  give 
full  assent  to  his  assertion,  that  they  can  do  nothing. 

But  what  then  ?  '  Thy  name  shall  no  more  be 
called  Jacob,  but  Israel ;'  this  is  that  magnificent  title 
which  no  one  ever  bore  except  Jacob.  It  means  a 


SERMON  VH.  113 

prince  of  God!  God  makes  a  show  of  Jacob,  as  it 
were,  and  boasts  of  him,  because  through  him  he  had 
accomplished  so  much.  Thus.  God  acts  also  towards 
his  people,  when  he  says, '  Fear  not,  thou  worm  Jacob ! 
I  will  help  thee.  Thou  shalt  thresh  the  mountains, 
and  beat  them  small  like  chaff.'  If  a  worm  can 
thresh  mountains,  it  is  only  possible  through  God,  who 
receives  all  the  honor  of  it. '  Thus  Jesus  boasts  respect- 
ing his  sheep,  "  That  they  shall  never  perish,  and  no 
one  shall  pluck  them  out  of  his  hands."  This  excites 
the  world,  together  with  the  hosts  of  hell.  The  most 
specious  errors,  the  vilest  temptations,  fire,  sword,  mar- 
tyrdom, imprisonment,  and  death,  are  called  forth  to 
see  whether  defenceless  sheep  cannot  be  destroyed. 
Whole  hosts  of  wolves  attack  them  ;  and  what  do 
they  accomplish  ?  Nothing  ;  except  that  they  prove 
the  faithfulness  of  Jesus,  and  increase  his  fame.  And 
here  even  God  strives  with  a  weak  and  sinful  man,  and 
cannot  overcome  him !  '  In  all  these  things  we  come 
off  more  than  conquerors,  through  Him  that  hath 
loved  us.' 

'Thou  shalt  be.  called  Israel.'  What  are  all  the 
titles,  however  high-sounding,  which  men  may  bear  ? 
They  dissolve,  at  length,  into  smoke  and  vapor,  of 
which  the  age  in  which  we  live  has  furnished  astonishing 
proofs.  In  themselves  they  are  no  protection ;  least  of  all 
against  the  wrath  of  God,  to  whom  that  which  is  high- 
ly esteemed  amongst  men  is  an  abomination  ;  and  who 
chooses,  by  preference,  that  which  is  wenk,  simple,  des- 
pised, and  nothing,  that  he  may  confound  that  which  is 
wise,  mighty,  and  noble ;  yea,  and  things  that  are  not, 


114  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

to  bring  to  nought  things  that  are ;  that  no  flesh  may 
glory  in  his  presence,  and  that  the  abundant  power 
may  be  of  God,  and  not  of  us.  What  a  foolish  direction 
is  given  to  the  ambitious  feeling  implanted  in  us  by  God, 
when  we  seek  honor  from  men,  instead  of  that  which 
cometh  from  God  ;  when  we  seek  earthly  possessions, 
and  are  not  rich  in  God  !  A  bruised  reed  in  the  king- 
dom of  God,  is  more  than  those  who  are  regarded  in 
the  world  as  stately  oaks ;  and  a  glimmering  taper  in 
the  temple  of  Jesus  Christ,  more  than  burning  torches 
out  of  it.  Esau  far  exceeded  Jacob  in  earthly  posses- 
sions. He  could  take  the  field  with  four  hundred  men, 
and  his  sons  were  princes.  But  God  loved  Jacob,  and 
not  Esau.  Of  what  avail,  therefore,  was  all  his  supe- 
riority ?  Be  "not  deceived,  for  that  is  only  valuable 
which  appears  so  in  the  eyes  of  God. 

<  Thou  shalt  be  called  Israel.'  The  Patriarch  doubt- 
less received  this  name  with  reference  to  the  remarka- 
ble individual  whose  progenitor  he  was  to  be,  and  in 
whom  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  should  be  blessed — 
Jesus  Christ,  to  whom  the  name  of  (  Prince  of  God ' 
peculiarly  belongs.  It  is  also  said  in  Jer.  xxx.  21, 
'  Their  prince  shall  be  of  themselves,  and  their  gover- 
nor shall  proceed  from  the  midst  of  them,  and  he  shall 
proceed  from  the  midst  of  them,  and  he  shall  approach 
unto  me.'  King,  Prince  of  Life,  Lord  of  Glory,  are 
his  titles ;  '  And  upon  his  vesture  and  his  thigh  he  has 
a  name  written,  King  of  Kings.'  He  indeed  strove 
with  God,  with  men,  and  with  devils,  and  overcame, 
and  has  received  a  name  which  is  above  every  name. 
Without  his  conflict,  all  our  wrestling  would  be  lost 


SERMON  VII.  115 

labor  ;  but  through  him  we  come  off  more  than  con- 
querors. 

The  wondrous  man  also  adduces  the  reason  why  he 
changed  the  name  of  Jacob  into  Israel ;  '  For,'  says  he, 
1  as  a  prince  thou  hast  power  with  God  and  with  men, 
and  hast  prevailed.'  The  name  Jacob — supplanter — was 
also  a  very  instructive  and  encouraging  name  ;  but  the 
Patriarch,  from  want  of  light,  had  not  found  much 
encouragement  in  it :  hence  the  Lord  gives  him  the 
requisite  instruction  respecting  his  new  name.  '  In  thy 
light,'  says  the  Psalmist,  *  we  see  light :'  and  prays, 
'  Open  thou  mine  eyes,  that  I  may  behold  wondrous 
things  out  of  thy  law.'  We  require  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
guide  us  into  all  truth,  not  less  than  the  disciples  of  the 
Lord,  who,  nevertheless  enjoyed  his  instruction.  With- 
out his  light, '  We  see  men,  at  the  best,  only  as  trees 
walking;'  and  therefore  indistinctly  and  confusedly. 
Hence  Paul  riot  only  taught,  but  prayed  also,  that  the 
Ephesians  might  comprehend  the  height,  and  breadth, 
and  depth,  and  length  of  the  love  of  God. 

God  bears  witness  to  Jacob  that  he  had  wrestled ; 
and  we  have  been  spectators  of  the  conflict.  He  had 
engaged  in  the  contest  with  all  the  energy — outwardly 
of  his  body,  inwardly  of  his  will.  And  thus  it  ought 
to  be.  The  slothful  man  dies  over  his  wishes,  and  his 
hands  refuse  to  labor.  Let  such  a  one  go  to  the  ant 
and  learn  of  that  little  insect,  if  he  cannot  see  it  in 
Jacob,  how  to  exert  all  his  strength,  and  employ  every 
means.  Let  him  do  his  uttermost,  and  not  lie  down  to 
sleep  too  soon  upon  the  pillow  of  human  inability, 
which  he  is  acquainted  with  only  from  hearsay.  Jacob 


116  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

would  certainly  not  have  received  the  new  name,  if  he 
had  immediately  fled,  under  the  idea  that  he  had  no 
power  to  resist.  But  he  was  compelled  to  struggle, 
because  his  life  was  now  at  stake.  How  many  are 
there  who  take  up  the  words  of  Jesus,  and  say,  "  We 
can  do  nothing  without  him,"  without  really  believing 
it,  because  they  have  never  tried  •  how  far  their  awn 
strength  extends.  Assuredly  the  Scripture  does  not 
call  upon  us  in  vain  to  strive  and  fight,  to  fear  and  be 
diligent,  to  work  and  do  violence ;  and  these  things  are 
equally  as  true,  as  that '  in  quietness  and  confidence 
shall  be  our  strength.'  '  I  write  unto  you,  young  men, 
because  ye  are  strong,  and  the  word  of  God  abideth 
in  you  ;  -for  ye  have  overcome  the  wicked  one.'  How- 
ever,  every  thing  has  its  time.  What  has  been  said, 
has  reference  to  the  first  station,  if  -I  may  so  speak, 
•on  the  journey  to  Jerusalem  ;  'Six  days  shalt  thou  la- 
bor and  do  all  thy  work ;  but  on  the  seventh,  the  sab- 
bath of  the  Lord,  thou  shalt  rest.' 

Such  was  Jacob's  case.  He  wrestled  and  strove ; 
but  at  length  his  struggling  was  at  an  end,  since .  his 
thigh,  the  soundness  of  which  was  indispensable -to  his 
wrestling,  was  dislocated.  There  was  now  an  end  to 
his  striving,  because  he  had  no  strength  left.  He  .then 
fell  into  the  arms  of  his  God ;  and  conquered  then,  and 
not  before ;  he  was  blessed  then,  and  not  till  then. 
Fight  therefore,  0  man !  who  desirest  to  be  saved. 
Fight  with  all  thy  might.  Do  not  give-  way  a  hair's 
breadth.  Watch,  pray,  read,  and  hear.  For  lo  !  Esau 
marches  against  thee  with  four  hundred  men !  With 
four  hundred  men  ! — and  Jacob  was  alone.  Danger- 


SERMON  VII.  117 

ous  situation !  For  what  assistance  could  he  derive 
from  his  wives,  his  children,  or  his  shepherds  ?  He  was 
compelled  to  fight  with  men.  To  Mesopotamia  he 
dared  not  return ;  for  God  would  not  have  it.  Pro- 
ceed he  could  not.  What  fool-hardiness,  to  march  out 
alone,  against  four  hundred  men !  Therefore,  weep, 
and  lament,  and  mourn,  and  despair !"  Not  so.  He 
believed  in  an  Almighty  and  merciful  God ;  be  believ- 
ed in  his  promise,  '  I  -will  do  thee  good.'  However, 
his  faith  was  at  that  time  not  sufficiently  strong  to  en- 
able him  to  say,  t  Though  a  host  should  encamp  against 
me,  I  will  not  be  afraid' — or  to  think  and  say  with 
«al iimess,  "God,  who  enjoined  Laban  to  speak  no 
otherwise  than  kindly  to  me,  is  still  the  same,  and  is 
able  and  willing  to  turn  the  heart  of  Esau  in  such  a 
manner,  that  he  shall  be  unable  to  act  cruelly  towards 
me,  seeing  that  God  hath  promised  that  in  my  descend- 
ants all  the  nations  of  the  earth  shall  be  blessed." 
Could  he  have  acted  thus,  how  glorious  would  it  have 
been !  But  this  was  not  in  accordance  with  his  pre- 
vious state  of  grace.  He  was  afraid,  because  his  rea- 
son still  reflected  too  much,  and  looked  more  at  the 
things  which  are  seen,  than  at  those  which  are  not 
seen.  But  his  faith  was  the  victory  which  overcame 
the  world.  This  faith  softened  his  heart,  so  that  he 
wept,  as  Hosea  says;  and  much  is  already  gained, 
win -ii  we  acquire  a  contrite  spirit,  and  when  the  hard 
heart  dissolves.  His  faith  opened  his  mind  and  his 
heart ;  so  that  he  was  able  to  pray,  as  Hosea  also  in- 
forms us.  His  faith  took  refuge  with  God.  What ! 
shall  God  work  a  miracle  ?  How  miserable,  to  be 
11 


118  THE  WRESTLING  OF   JACOB. 

only  able  to  oppose  prayer  to  four  hundred  armed  men  ! 
Certainly  this  is  not  rational,  but  still  it  is  of  faith.  And 
to  the  believer  are  given  all  the  promises  of  a  living 
God,  who  overrules  all  natural  and  accidental  events 
according  to  His  good  pleasure. 

It  was  thus  he  wrestled  with  men,  in  the  most  pru- 
dent manner,  by  taking  God  to  his  aid  against  them ; 
for  if  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?  And  oh, 
how  evangelically  wise  we  all  act,  when  we  commence 
our  spiritual  conflict — not  in  our  own  wisdom  and 
strength,  but  draw  the  Lord  himself,  by  faith  and 
prayer,  into  the  conflict;  he  will  then  fight  for  us, 
whilst  we  shall  hold  our  peace.  If  we  go  out  to  the 
battle  without  God  ;  if  we  think  that  in  our  own  wis- 
dom and  strength  we  are  sufficiently  equipped — we 
should  act  as  foolishly,  as  if  Jacob  had  believed  that  he 
alone  was  able  to  face  four  hundred  men ;  and  that 
which  we  think  we  have  accomplished,  is  only  self-de- 
ception. But  with  God,  it  might  be  all  one  to  Jacob, 
whether  his  brother  came  out  against  him  with  four 
hundred  or  four  thousand  men.  For  he  that  without 
Christ  can  do  nothing,  with  him  can  do  all  things  ;  and 
it  is  the  same  to  the  Lord,  to  help  with  many  or  with 
few. 

Thus  Jacob  wrestled,  like  a  prince,  against  men. 
He  did  not  despair  on  account  of  the  might  and  multi- 
tude of  those  who  were  against  him,  and  looked  not  at 
his  littleness  and  inability.  Nor  did  he  trust  to  the  fra- 
gile staff  of  his  own  strength,  which  indeed  he  was  un- 
able to  do ;  for  it  was  broken.  Reason  showed  him 
nothing  but  ruin  and  death,  and  nature  was  afraid,  but 


SERMON  VI [.  119 

laith  helped  him  through.  By  its  means,  he  honored 
God  as  able  to  help,  where  there  is  no  other  aid  ;  and 
although  he  did  not  understand  by  what  means,  yet  he 
left  this  with  God's  all  comprehensive  wisdom.  He 
said,  "  Wilt  thou  not  do  it,  Lord  ?  I  know  no  other 
<ure,  and  can  do  nothing  more,  and  see  myself  com- 
pelled to  resign  myself  to  thee  and  thy  good  pleasure, 
with  all  that  are  mine,  and  what  thou  hast  otherwise 
given  me.  Do  with  me,  therefore,  as  seemeth  thee 

0-00(1." 

Nature,  indeed,  trembles,  when  it  feels  compelled  to 
seek  help  of  God,  because  it  is  no  where  else  to  be 
found,  and  is  more  inclined  to  fear  its  total  ruin,  than  to 
expect  help  and  deliverance.  But  the  Holy  Spirit  here 
turns  the  scale.  He  holds  the  soul  fast,  so  that  it  de- 
clares, '  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me  !' 
This  is  the  real  inward  conflict  and  travailing  in  birth, 
£  which  the  soul  cries  to  God,  out  of  the  depth  of 
.stress,  and  then  ascends  on  high  when  the  time  ar- 
rives. This  is  in  reality  no  trifle,  and  it  may  be  said 
with  Solomon,  *  A  wounded  spirit,  who  can  bear  !'  But 
these  are,  at  the  same  time,  paths  which  terminate  in  the 
desired  end  : — '  The  Lord  hath  done  great  things  for 
me,  whereof  I  am  glad.' 

*  Thou  hast  had  power  with  men,  and  hast  prevail- 
ed,' said  the  Lord  to  Israel.  He  came  off  more  easily 
with  Laban.  He  fled,  and  prudently  took  advantage 
of  the  absence  of  his  father-in-law,  as  the  fittest  mo- 
ment for  his  flight.  However,  that  he  might  not  as- 
cribe all  the  success  to  his  prudence,  Laban  ascertained 
his  flight  early  enough  to  hasten  after  him.  He  did  so, 


120  THE  WRESTLING  OF   JACOB. 

and  took  with  him  his  brethren  ;  which  however  did 
not  betray  the  most  friendly  intentions  .towards  Jacob, 
and  overtook  him  on  the  seventh  day.  But  God  came 
to  Jacob's  aid,  by  a  dream,  in  which  he  turned  the 
heart  of  Laban  in  such  a  manner,  that  he  was  not  per- 
mitted to  do  him  any  harm,  but  only  spoke  harshly  to 
him  ;  and  at  length  retired,  after  taking  a  friendly 
leave.  Jacob,  in  this  instance,  came  off  easily,  and 
with  a  slight  degree  of  terror ;  for  God  usually  leads 
his  people  step  by  step,  and  exercises  those  whom  he 
calls  to  severer  conflicts,  previously  in  easier  ones.  For 
a  period,  they  are  able  by  their  own  strength  and  re- 
flection to  accomplish  much  ;  but  at  length  both  go  to 
the  bottom.  Waves  cover  the  little  vessel,  and  the 
cry  is  heard, '  Master,  save  !  we  perish  !'  and  then  the 
help  is  near  at  hand. 

Such  was  also  the  case  with  Jacob.  After  the  de- 
parture of  Laban,  he  was  greatly  comforted,  and  receiv- 
ed a  powerful  invigoration  to  his  faith  ;  for  he  was 
met  by  the  angels  of  God.  This  circumstance  was 
highly  remarkable  and  encouraging  ;  and  because  the 
art  of  writing  was  at  that  time  not  understood,  he  call- 
ed the  place  where  it  happened,  *  Mahanaim,'  the 
Lord's  host :  for  when  he  saw  the  angels  of  God,  he 
said,  '  This  is  God's  host.'  This  afterwards  assisted 
him  in  his  conflict.  If  any  one  is  delivered  out  of  six 
troubles,  he  cherishes  the  hope  that  in  the  seventh  he 
shall  not  be  forsaken  ;  (  for  experience  worketh  hope 
and  hope  maketh  not  ashamed.'  Christ  said  to  Peter ; 
'  Thinkest  thou  that  I  cannot  now  pray  to  my  Father, 
and  he  shall  presently  give  me  more  than  twelve  le- 


SERMON  vn.  121 

gions  of  angels  V  Thus  Jacob  saw  that  God  could  at 
least  send  two  hosts  of  angels  to  his  aid.  But  when 
he  was  in  straits,  all  sensible  supports  gradually  gave 
way,  and  Jacob  remained  alone  with  God. 

The  affair  with  Esau  was  a  much  more  serious  one 
than  that  with  Laban.  But  defenceless  Jacob  did  not 
overcome  even  him  by  armor  and  weapons,  not  by 
humble  messages,  not  by  presents,  nor  any  other  means 
which  his  prudence  might  have  dictated  :  but  by  his 
humble,  believing  prayer,  or  rather  by  God  himself. 
God  softened  the  heart  of  the  infuriated  Esau,  who  had 
sworn  his  brother's  death, "to  such  a  degree,  that  when 
he  came  in  sight  of  his  brother,  he  ran  to  meet  him, 
cordially  embraced  him,  fell  upon  his  neck,  and  wept. 
But  Jacob  saw  in  his  brother  the  face  of  God.  He 
perceived  in  his  whole  deportment  the  wonderful  over- 
ruling power  of  God,  who  had  blessed  him.  He  saw 
with  his  eyes,  in  the  most  striking  manner,  that  a  man's 
actions  do  not  stand  in  his  own  power  ;  that  he  can 
purpose  saying  something,  and  yet  that  it  depends  up- 
on the  Lord  whether  he  is  suffered  to  utter  it.  Jacob 
ascribed  nothing  of  it  to  himself,  as  the  consequence  of 
his  prudence  ;  nor  could  he  indeed  do  so.  He  gave 
God  alone  the  glory,  and  saw  in  Esau's  whole  deport- 
ment only  the  power  and  faithfulness  of  God ;  he  there- 
fore bowed  himself  seven  times  to  the  earth,  more  be- 
fore God  than  before  his  brother.  Hence  he  called  him 
his  lord,  as  he  was  in  reality.  For  naturally  Esau,  with 
his  four  hundred  men,  could  have  done  with  Jacob 
what  he  pleased  ;  although  in  reality  only  as  God 
pleased.  Thus,  with  his  dislocated  limb,  through  God's 
11* 


122  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

help,  he  overpowered   Esau   with  his  four   hundred 
men. 

But  we  will  here  break  off.  This  is  wrestling  so  as 
to  gain  the  victory  :  for  faith  is  the  victory  that  over- 
cometh  the  world.  This  does  not  take  place  in  our 
own  strength,  nor  to  our  own  praise.  God  receives 
all  the  glory.  c  No  one  is  crowned,  except  he  strive 
lawfully.'  See  to  it,  how  you  will  stand  against  four 
hundred,  or  whether  you  are  able  to  go  forth  with  ten 
thousand  against  him  who  comes  towards  you  with 
twenty  thousand.  But '  if  the  Son  shall  make  you  free, 
then  are  ye  free  indeed.' 


SERMON  VIII. 

*  Is  there  no  balm  in  Gilead — is  there  no  physician 
there  V  inquires  the  sorrowing  prophet  Jeremiah,  chap. 
viii.  32.  He  previously  complains  of  the  lamentable  state 
in  which  his  people  were  placed — a  state  which  would 
draw  after  it  one  still  more  lamentable.  *  Where  is  the 
man,'  he  asks, '  who  does  not  gladly  rise  again  after  his 
fall  ?  and  who,  after  going  astray,  would  not  gladty 
return  to  the  right  path  1  But  this  people  hold  fast 
deceit,  and  refuse  to  return  V  However  much  under- 
standing men  may  have  in  natural  things,  they  manifest 
the  very  reverse  in  spiritual  things.  Even  the  birds  of 
the  air,  as  he  observes  in  verse  7,  put  men  to  shame  in 
this  respect.  At  the  same  time  they  were  haughty,  and 
said, '  We  are  wise,  and  the  law  of  the  Lord  is  with  us  V 
which,  however,  they  did  not  understand.  Self-con- 
ceited individuals  refuse  advice,  and  therefore  cannot  be 
assisted.  But  must  this  wretched  state  of  things  continue  ? 
Is  there  no  physician  there !  Or  if  there  is,  is  there  any 
want  of  medicine  ?  Oh  no  !  A  physician  is  there. 
He  possesses  all  the  requisite  knowledge.  He  per- 
fectly understands  the  method  of  cure.  He  is  a  faithful, 
patient,  gentle,  and  a  kind  physician.  He  knows  the 
nature  and  real  seat  of  every  disease ;  knows  whether 
he  ought  to  use  the  knife  or  the  plaster;  to  cut,  burn, 
or  heal.  A  physician  therefore  is  there ;  but  is  there 


124  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

a  want  of  medicine — is  there  no  balm  in  Gilead  1  Oh 
yes :  this  physician  is  at  the  same  time  the  medicine ; 
or  if  you  will,  his  blood  and  Spirit  is  the  balm.  Was 
he  able  formerly  to  heal  every  disease — he  can  do  so 
still.  Was  he  able,  when  on  earth,  to  raise  the  dead — 
he  does  so  still,  as  he  has  proved  in  the  cases  of  many 
of  you,  and  doubtless  will  continue  to  do  so.  Many 
amongst  you  are  already  healed  ;  but  why  not  all  ? 
Some  suppose  they  need  no  physician  ;  others  do  not 
think  their  diseases  sufficiently  dangerous,  and  endea- 
vor to  heal  themselves,  by  which  the  evil  is  made 
worse ;  others  prescribe  to  the  physician  the  method 
in  which  they  wish  to  be  treated.  Some  do  not  under- 
stand how  to  buy  the  balm  ;  and  seek  for  money,  al- 
though it  is  to  be  had  for  nought.  The  majority  will  not 
suffer  themselves  to  be  cjired  of  their  own  piety,  and 
even  think  the  physician  must  promote  it  ;  but  they 
are  much  mistaken  : c  He  maketh  sore  and  bindeth  up  ; 
hewoundeth,  and  his  hands  make  whole.' 


GENESIS  xxxii.  28. 

For  as  a  prince  thou  hast  power  with  God  and  with  men,  and 
hast  prevailed. 

WE  lately  considered  how  Jacob  wrestled  with  God 
and  with  men,  and  prevailed.  Let  us  now  contemplate 
the  manner  of  his  struggling  with  God,  and  prevailing ; 
and  consider, 


SERMON  VIII.  125 

I.  The  conflict ;   and 

II.  Its  result. 

4  Thou  hast  power  with  God,'  said  he  who  had  wres- 
tled the  whole  night  with  Jacob.  Unequal  conflict  ! 
God  against -man  !  Unheard  of,  incredible  result !  The 
man  overcomes  !  Jacob  now  learnt  with  whom  he  had 
to  do — not  with  a  foe,  but  with  his  best  friend.  How  is 
the  soul  astonished,  when  at  the  end  of  the  darkest 
paths,  in  which  it  was  inclined  to  think  that  God  had 
in  wrath  forgotten  to  be  merciful,  and  to  say,  *  Is  his 
mercy  clean  gone  for  ever  V  it  perceives  in  these  very 
paths  the  most  striking  condescension  of  the  Lord,  and 
the  greatest  kindness  in  a  guidance  which  seemed  only 
to  aim  at  its  destruction.  Then  indeed  a  wonderful 
and  glorious  morning  dawns. 

He  wrestled  with  God.  God,  therefore,  seemed  in 
some  respects  not  to  be  for  him,  but  against  him. 
God  seemed  not  to  be  for  him ;  for  why  was  it  other- 
wise with  him  with  regard  to  Esau,  than  it  had  been 
with  regard  to  Laban?  Why  did  fear  obtain  such 
possession  of  his  mind,  without  his  being  able  to 
defend  himself  against  it?  Why  did  it  not  depart  at 
his  humble  prayer  and  thanksgiving  ?  If  God  intend- 
ed to  do  him  good,  why  did  he  expose  him  to  so  much 
danger — and  he  at  the  same  time  so  defenceless  1  If 
he  loved  him,  why  did  he  ask  him  to  let  him  go  ?  And 
why  did  he  put  him  so  entirely  to  shame  ?  If  the  Lord 
be  with  us,  why  is  all  this  befallen  us  ?  This  question 
of  Gideon's,  the  children  of  God  are  often  inclined  to 
ask :  "  If  I  am  really  regenerate,  whence  these  sinful 
inclinations  in  me  ?  If  the  Lord  loves  me,  why  does 
he  place  me  in  these  particular  circumstances  ?  If  my 


126  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

prayer  is  acceptable,  why  does  it  not  produce  greater 
effect  ?  If  God  is  for  me,  why  is  there  so  much  against 
me  ?"  But  the  end  of  the  ways  of  the  Lord  is  better 
than  their  beginning,  and  the  soul  at  length  receives  a 
very  satisfactory  answer  to  these  questions. 

The  Lord,  however,  seemed  to  be  entirely  against 
Jacob ;  against  him  with  words ;  for  he  must  have  said 
bitter  things  to  him ;  otherwise  why  did  he  weep  ?  as 
Hosea  informs  us.  He  must  have  reproached,  reprov- 
ed, rejected,  and  threatened  him ;  otherwise  why  did  he 
entreat  him  1  Did  he  not,  in  after-times,  compare  the 
Canaanitish  woman  to  a  dog,  and  mention  what  was 
proper  and  improper  in  the  treatment  of  such  ?  And 
is  it  not  often  the  case  with  individuals,  that  when  de- 
sirous of  comforting  themselves  with  a  promise — a  com- 
mand, a  threatening,  a  reproof  meets  them  and  snatches 
it  away,  as  it  were,  from  their  lips ;  and  this  continues 
until  the  covering  of  Moses  falls  off  from  the  heart  and 
the  soul  looks  into  the  perfect  law-  of  liberty ;  until 
Christ  becomes  the  end  of  the  law  ;  till  the  whole  of 
holy  writ  becomes  a  Testament,  and  the  covenant  of 
grace  beams  forth  as  such.  But  what  is  chiefly  neces- 
sary in  order  to  this  ?  The  Lord  plunges  Jacob,  in  a 
certain  sense,  into  despair,  when  he  says  '  Let  me  go— 
I  will  depart.'  And  does  he  not  often  withdraw  him- 
self, whilst  the  soul  resolves  to  cleave  to  him,  whatever 
be  the  result  ? 

It  did  not  rest  in  mere  words :  actions  are  added 
to  them.  He  increases  Jacob's  distress  by  wrestling 
with  him ;  and  that  so  violently,  that  Jacob,  according 
to  the  expression  of  Hosea,  is  obliged  to  resist  with  all 


SERMON    VIII.  127 

his  might.  He  chooses,  for  this  purpose,  the  night,  a 
season  the  most  appalling  of  all ;  and  the  period  when 
Jacob's  distress  had,  besides  that,  reached  a  terrific 
height,  and  when  his  fear  was  great.  By  the  disloca- 
tion of  his  thigh,  he  deprived  him  of  all  strength,  and 
rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  continue  the  conflict, 
although  the  ceasing  from  it  was  equally  impossible. 
He  caused  him  pain.  He  casts  him,  as  it  were,  de- 
fenceless before  his  enemy,  by  making  escape  imprac- 
ticable. 

Jacob  therefore  found  it  necessary  to  defend  himself, 
and  to  strive  against  his  adversary,  be  he  who  he 
might.  And  the  Lord  bears  him  witness  that  he  had 
struggled  with  God,  and  had  prevailed.  With  God  ? 
How  wonderful!  What! — does  God  act  in  such  a 
manner  with  men  ?  Does  he  so  degrade  himself  as  to 
wrestle  with  a  man — as  man  against  man  ?  It  is  not 
i-redible !  Not  credible  ?  Thou  shalt  see  still  greater 
and  more  unaccountable  things  than  these.  How  wilt 
thou  believe  the  latter,  if  the  former  are  incredible  to 
thee  ?  Go  to  Bethlehem ;  there  thou  wilt  find  him  ly- 
ing in  a  manger,  as  a  little  needy  infant.  Go  to  Jeru- 
salem; there  thou  wilt  see  him  in  the  hands  of  the 
wicked,  who  nail  him  to  the  cross ;  there  thou  wilt  be- 
hold him  crucified  between  two  malefactors,  hear  him 
complain  of  being  forsaken  of  God,  see  him  die,  and 
ness  his  interment. 

What  sayest  thou  to  these  astonishing  mysteries  ?  If 
thou  canst  not  believe  the  less,  how  will  it  be  with  the 
greater  1  Does  God  act  thus  towards  men  ?  Why 
should  he  not  1  If  not  a  sparrow  falls  without  the  will 


128  '  THE  WRESTLING    OF  JACOB. 

of  God,  what  do  -we  think  can  befall  the  children  of 
God  without  their  Father's  superintendence?  Even 
the  very  hairs  of  our  head  are  all  numbered ;  every  one 
of  them  is  precious  to  him ;  and  how  can  it  be  other- 
wise, since  he  has  paid  such  an  inestimable  price  for 
them  ?  How  wonderful !  Does  his  love  assume  such 
a  form  as  we  here  see  it  in  the  case  of  Jacob  ?  Does 
he  distribute  benefits  in  such  a  manner  ?  Does  appar- 
ent injury  also  belong  to  his  method  of  doing  good  ? 

In  what  manner  did  Jacob  wrestle  with  God  ?  Cer- 
tainly not  in  the  sense  in  which  Stephen  said  to  the 
Jews,  '  Ye  do  always  resist  the  Holy  Ghost,  even  as 
your  fathers  did,  so  do-  ye.'  The  Patriarch  defended 
himself  not  merely  by  struggling  with  his  body — this 
was  only  the  effect ;  the  cause  lay  deeper,  lay  within ; 
and  that  was  faith.  This  faith  was  not  exactly  a  sen- 
sible faith,  nor  a  perfectly  satisfied  faith — for  he  was 
afraid;  but  distress  excited  it,  and  the  best  kind  of 
faith  is  when  the  individual,  in  the  consciousness  of  his 
utter  poverty,  does  not  look  so  much  at  his  faith,  as  at 
Jesus.  Faith  is  that  which  is  Divine  in  the  Christian  ; 
which  by  a  strong  impulse  seeks  that  which  is  Divine, 
and  is  invincible.  It  manifests  itself  in  taking  refuge 
with  Christ  under  the  strong  attraction  of  the  Father; 
in  not  casting  away  our  confidence,  which  has  great 
recompense  of  reward.  Jacob  clung  with  such  firm- 
ness to  the  Divine  promise,  which  his  distress  compel- 
led him  to  do,  that  he  was  so  little  confused  by  the 
adverse  conduct  of  the  Lord  as  to  refer  him  to  his  own 
promise, '  I  will  do  thee  good,'  and  adhere  firmly  to  it.' 

Jacob  wrestled  with  God,  first,  with  the  exertion  of 


SERMON  VIII.  129 

all  his  powers,  in  the  most  determined  struggle,  as  long 
as  he  felt  any  power  in  himself;  but  this  only  served 
to  convince  him,  that  we  do  not  gain  the  prize  by  our 
own  efforts,  and  that  the  kingdom  of  peace  is  not 
taken  by  violence.  This  mode  of  wrestling  was  ren- 
dered impracticable  to  him,  since  he  was  deprived  of 
the  requisite  power  for  it  by  the  dislocation  of  his  thigh. 
The  conflict  was  now  obliged  to  be  continued  in  an 
rntiivJy  different  manner — that  is,  by  a  passive  conduct, 
which  the  circumstances  pointed  out.  The  paralyzed 
combatant  had  no  alternative  than  that  of  casting  him- 
self into  the  arms  of  him  who  had  thus  disabled  him, 
and  instead  of  exerting  himself,  to  let  himself  be  car- 
ried ;  in  other  words — instead  of  caring  for  himself,  to 
.  cast  his  burden  upon  the  Lord — to  believe,  and  to  turn 
from  the  law  to  the  Gospel.  And  when  he  began  to  do 
this,  the  Lord  saw  that  he  could  not  prevail  against  him, 
and  took  his  part.  The  struggle  then  assumed  a  very 
different  aspect ;  it  then  became  a  reposing,  such  as 
Isaiah  speaks  of  in  ch.  xxx.  7  :  *  Their  strength  is  to 
sit  >till ;'  and  in  another  place,  *  In  quietness  shall  be 
your  strength.' 

Thus  we  see  in  Jacob  how  legal  exertion  at  length 
gives  way  to  the  evangelical  sabbath  of  repose ;  and 
that  in  the  latter,  that  is  attained  for  nought  and  with- 
out labor,  which  is  sought  in  vain  from  the  most  stre- 
nuous efforts ;  for  according  to  Psalm  cxxvii.  2,  *  He 
giveth  it  his  beloved,  sleeping.'  Wonderful !  When 
Jacob  was  unable  to  struggle  any  longer,  *  the  Lord 
saw  that  he  prevailed  not  against  him.' 
12 


130  THE   WRESTLING    OF   JACOB. 

But  why  did  God  enter  into  such  a  conflict  with 
Jacob  ? 

First,  because  it  pleased  him.  Secondly,  to  give  a 
particular  proof  of  his  condescension,  how  minutely  he 
concerns  himself  about  his  people — a  subject  of  which 
our  ungodly  hearts  so  often  doubt,  and  so  seldom  con- 
fide in,  to  the  extent  we  ought,  if  we  only  give  ear  to 
the  single  injunction  of  the  Apostle  when  he  says,  £  Be 
careful  for  nothing.'  But  the  unbelieving  corrupt  na- 
ture requires  one  proof  after  another,  and  still  remains 
incredulous  ;  as  Job  says, £  If  I  had  called  and  he  had 
answered  me,  yet  would  I  not  believe  that  he  had 
hearkened  unto  my  voice.'  (ch.  ix.  16.)  We  prefer 
caring  for  ourselves,  although  we  accomplish  nothing 
by  it,  and  only  occasion  ourselves  fruitless  labor. 

We  have  certainly  much  greater  and  more  striking 
proofs  of  the  uncommon  condescension  of  God  to  man 
in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  than  this  to  Jacob  ;  but  the  lat- 
ter is  not  to  be  despised.  When  should  we  have  done, 
were  we  only  in  some  measure  to  go  through  the  his- 
tory of  Jacob's  posterity,  both  during  their  forty  years' 
journey  through  the  wilderness,  and  their  actual  resi- 
dence in  Canaan,  in  order  to  show  how  God  often  so 
visibly  interfered ;  and  what  would  it  avail  the  old  man, 
who  would  have  recourse  to  the  subterfuge,  "  though 
God  did  these  things  formerly,  yet  he  does  them  no 
longer."  Just  as  if  he  either  did  nothing,  or  must  do 
obvious  miracles,  and  as  if  he  were  bound  to  one  par- 
ticular mode  of  acting.  And  even  when  miracles  were 
really  performed,  there  were  prudent  people  enough, 
who  said,  "  Master,  we  would  gladly  see  a  separate 


SERMON  VIII.  131 

sign  from  thee,  which  should  not  merely  convince  the 
ir,  but  us  also."  "  Ye  shall  have  a  sign,"  replied 
the  Master ;  "  I  will  rise  again  after  ye  have  slain  me." 
This  took  place ;  they  knew  of  it  in  a  manner  which 
ought  to  have  been  perfectly  satisfactory  to  them.  But 
what  did  it  avail  ?  They  continued  in  unbelief ;  for 
when  the  kingdom  of  God  comes,  outward  phenomena 
do  not  contribute  to  it;  unless  the  individual  rco 
the  spirit  of  faith,  he  does  not  believe  though  one  rose 
from  the  dead.  He  that  knows  God,  sees  him  not  only 
in  the  thunder  and  the  storm,  or  in  manifest  wonders, 
which  certainly  may  compel  even  Egyptian  magicians 
to  acknowledge  his  hand ;  but  also  in  the  lot,  and  the 
hair  of  the  head,  and  in  events  unimportant  in  them- 
selves, by  which  he  is  the  most  honored.  God  therefore 
gives,  in  this  conflict  with  Jacob,  a  proof  of  his  uncom- 
mon condescension. 

It  serves  also,  thirdly,  as  a  representation  to  others 
of  the  ways  by  which  the  Lord  may  lead  them,  in  a 
similar  manner  to  Jacob.  It  is  true,  the  Lord  will 
scarcely  think  it  needful  to  enter  into  a  bodily  conflict 
with  any  one,  although  he  is  able,  and  really  does,  ex- 
ercise his  children  by  temporal  occurrences.  There  are 
instances  in  which,  from  the  time  the  individual  was 
converted  to  God,  success  no  longer  attends  him,  but 
sickness  or  misfortunes  befal  himself  or  his  family ; 
nay,  it  may  even  be  the  case,  that  he  himself  is  depriv- 
ed of  his  natural  ability  to  take  charge  of  his  affairs, 
and  they  fall  into  confusion,  however  much  he  may 
exert  himself,  and  however  cautiously  he  may  act ;  so 
that  even  in  natural  things  he  is  put  to  shame.  In  his 


132  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

domestic  and  family  circle,  the  words  of  Christ  may  be 
verified — (  A  man's  foes  are  those  of  his  own  house- 
hold.' Quarrels  .may  arise  with  respect  to  religion, 
between  husband  and  wife,  parents  and  children,  where 
unity  previously  prevailed.  It  may  happen,  that  a  per- 
son, on  account  of  his  religion,  may  become  the  object 
of  an  almost  universal  hatred,  calumny,  and  ridicule  ; 
nay,  he  may  be  occasionally  ill-treated,  as  was  the  case 
with  the  Holy  One  himself. 

Generally  speaking,  those  to  whom  the  Lord  is  will- 
ing to  manifest  himself  more  intimately,  as  he  did  to 
Jacob,  experience  many  trials  and  much  adversity  for  a 
period  ;  and  at  length  an  Esau  stands  in  their  way, 
who  threatens  them  with  destruction-^-nay,  not  only 
an  Esau,  but  the  Lord  himself.  They  are  brought  low 
in  themselves,  that  the  Lord  may  be  magnified.  They 
desire  to  be  holy,  strong,  righteous,  wise,  believing,  and 
good;  they  pray  and  labor  as  much  as  possible  ;  but 
instead  of  advancing  forward,  they  go  back.  They 
increasingly  exert  themselves  like  Jacob  ;  but  only  dis- 
locate their  limbs  the  more.  Whatever  they  lay  hold  of, 
eludes_their  grasp  ;  what  they  seek,  they  do  not  obtain. 
Jesus  makes  sinners  of  them  without  mercy,  and  their 
sin  appears  extremely  sinful  to  them  by  means  of 
the  commandment,  however  much  they  may  moan 
and  groan  on  account  of  it.  At  length,  their  very 
hip  is  dislocated ;  they  can  no  longer  maintain  .their 
former  footing ;  and  nothing  is  left  them  but  to  yield 
themselves  to  the  Son  of  God  at  discretion,  and  creep, 
as  chickens,  under  his  expanded  wings.  O  glorious 
result,  but  highly  disagreeable  path  to  nature,  to  which 


SERMON  VIII.  133 

nothing  is  It'll,  and  to  which  nothing  ought  to  be  left ! 
Here  it  is  manifest,  that  the  mystery  of  godliness  is 
great. 

But  what  was  the  result  of  the  conflict?  It  is 
described  in  the  unparalleled  words,  '  Thou  hast  had 
power  with  God,  and  hast  prevailed.'  How  absurd  to 
reason  !  How  apparently  impossible  to  prevail  over 
God  !  What  strange  things  are  related  in  the  Scrip- 
tures! CYrtainU  they  are  strange;  no  rational  soul 
can  deny  it.  How  absurd  it  sounds,  when  it  is  said,  for 
instance,  '  He  that  will  be  wise,  let  him  become  a 
fool ;'  '  God  justifies  the  ungodly ;'  '  When  I  am 
weak,  thm  am  I  strong;'  *  Having  nothing,  yet  pos- 
sessing all  things ;'  *  I  ana.  not  come  to  call  the  right- 
eous, but  sinners:'  and  many  more  such  paradoxical 
expressions ;  on  which  account,  Paul  calls  the  whole 
Gospel  foolishness,  for  which  all  that  are  wise,  justly 
regard  it  ;  but  to  us,  who  believe  this  foolishness,  it  is 
become  the  wisdom  of  God,  and  the  power  of  God, 
alter  it  is  «/iven  ILS  to  believe  it. 

Jacob,  therefore,  (rained  the  victory  over  God  ;  nay, 
he  gained  it  ot  necessity.  And  why  ?  God  could  not 
strut-  with  him  as  the  Almiirhty,  or  as  the  Holy  One, 
because  he  had  bound  his  own  hands  by  his  truth,  and 
by  his  promise,  4  1  will  do  thee  good.'  God  had  ren- 
dered it  impossible  for  him  to  strive  with  Jacob  in  such 
a  manner,  as  would  have  resulted  in  his  ruin.  This 
would  have  been  at  complete  variance  with  his  truth, 
the  thoughts  ..I  peace  he  had  towards  him,  and  with 
the  whole  contents  of  the  covenant  of  grace,  as  well  as 
the  spiritual  espousals  of  the  Lord  with  his  church. 
12* 


134  THE    WRESTLING    OF   JACOB. 

He  could,  therefore,  only  strive  against,  him  in  love, 
and  do  him  no  further  injury  than  the  glory  of  God  and 
Jacob's  salvation  necessarily  required.  Under  these 
circumstances,  therefore,  Jacob  could  not  fail  to  suc- 
ceed. He  saves  sinners,  and  justifies  the  ungodly. 
Now,  since  he  has  said  this  himself,  he  cannot  treat 
those  who  are  sinners  and  ungodly  in  any  other  man- 
ner. 

c  As  a  prince  thou  hast  power  with  God.'  Wherein 
consisted  his  princely  conduct  ?  He  was  sincere,  and 
did  not  wish  to  appear  before  God  better  than  he  really 
was.  He  confessed  his  sins,  by  frankly  owning  that  he 
was  afraid.  He  believed  the  word  which  the  Lord  had 
spoken. 

And  oh,  how  much  may  such  a  sincere  confession  ac- 
complish !  When  David  at  length  said,  *  I  will  confess 
my  transgressions  unto  the  Lord,'  he  forgave  the  iniqui- 
ty of  his  sin.  But  as  long  as  he  kept  silence,  his  bones 
waxed  old  through  his  roaring  all  the  day  long.  (Psalm 
xxxii.  3 — 5.)  He  prayed  and  laid  all  his  burden  before 
the  Lord,  whilst  seeking  all  his  help  from  him,  and  not 
from  himself.  He  believed,  and  that  from  faith  to  faith ; 
so  that  he  suffered  nothing  to  confuse  him,  and  was  bold 
enough  at  length  to  cast  himself  into  the  arms  of  his 
opponent,  when  every  other  mode  of  acting  was  render- 
ed impracticable.  And  to  him  that  believeth,  all 
things  are  possible,  even  the  overcoming  of  God  him- 
self. 

"  Ah,  but  who  is  able  to  act  in  a  similar  manner  to 
Jacob  ?"  Be  it  so  ;  but  we  must  remark  that  the  He- 
brew language  has  something  in  it  very  peculiar  5  so 


SERMON    VIII.  135 

that  it  is  not  only  said,  *  Thou  hast  prevailed,'  but  at 
the  same  time,  "  Thou  art  rendered  fit,  able,  and  compe- 
tent, and  wilt  be  made  competent  to  prevail."  The 
whole  affair  is  now  clear.  It  is  now  conceiveable  how 
Jacob  could  have  acted  thus,  although  it  would  other- 
wise have  been  incomprehensible  how  a  weak  and  sinful 
man  could  have  conducted  himself  in  such  a  manner. 
Now  the  whole  glory  reverted,  as  it  ought,  to  the  Lord. 
It  was  sufficiently  honourable  for  Jacob,  that  he  was  ena- 
bled to  act  thus ;  and  a  cause  of  sufficient  joy,  that  the 
Lord  had  thus  condescended  to  him. 

But  what  a  carte-blanche  for  the  future — "  Thou  shalt 
be  made  competent !"  What  was  left  him,  therefore, 
but  to  believe,  to  hang  upon  his  neck,  and  suffer  him  to 
carry  him  ! 

How  confidently  might  he  now  look  forward  to 
whatever  might  occur !  If  he  had  no  sufficiency  for  it 
beforehand,  he  did  not  need  it.  *  Take  no  thought  what 
ye  shall  say,  or  what  ye  shall  do ;  it  shall  be  given  you 
at  the  time  what  ye  shall  speak.'  '  If  ye  abide  in  me, 
my  words  abide  in  you,  ye  shall  ask  what  ye  will, 
and  it  shall  be  done  unto  you.' 


SERMON   IX. 

THE  Epistle  of  James  is  a  remarkable  piece  of  Holy 
Writ,  although  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  understand  it 
aright.  Its  object  is,  that  those  whom  he  calls  breth- 
ren, should  be  perfect  and  entire,  wanting  nothing  ; 
and  that  their  faith  should  be  unfeigned.  Hence  he  en- 
deavors to  overthrow  all  that  is  not  sincere  and  genu- 
ine :  and  because  trials  are  a  blessed  means  for  this  pur- 
pose in  the  Father's  hands,  he  wishes  them  to  esteem  it 
all  joy  when  they  fall  into  divers  temptations,  and 
counts  him  happy  who  endures  the  test.  He  then 
points  out  the  source  of  every  good  and  perfect  gift, 
which  is  the  Father  alone ;  and  entreats  them  not  to 
err  in  expecting  any  thing  from  any  other  quarter.  He 
then  recommends  prayer  ;  because  God  giveth  liberally, 
and  upbraideth  no  one.  Every  one  pretends  that  he 
prays ;  but  the  Apostle  inquires  whether  his  prayer  pos- 
sesses the  true  properties  ?  Is  it  offered  in  faith  ?  If 
not,  let  no  one  suppose  that  he  shall  receive  any  thing 
of  the  Lord.  Faith,  again,  is  a  thing  of  which  it  is  easy 
to  say,  "  I  possess  it."  Be  it  so ;  let  us  look  at  thy 
faith.  The  devils  also  believe,  and  Abraham  likewise. 
Which  of  the  two  does  thine  resemble  ?  Thou  seest 
that  with  Abraham  it  was  not  a  lifeless  matter,  but  en- 
abled him  to  offer  up  Isaac  on  the  altar  ^  and  hence  it 
is  evident  that  man  is  not  justified  by  faith  alone,  but 


SERMON  IX.  137 

that  justifying  faith  must  necessarily  be  living  faith,  and 
the  man  must  prove  his  faith. by  his  works.  If  he  does 
not,  his  faith  is  available  neither  before  God  nor  man, 
nor  even  before  the  man's  own  conscience,  who  says, 
*  I  believe,'  much  less  before  the  all-penetrating  eyes  of 
God. 

But,  says  one,  "  I  have  faith  and  works  also;"  these 
are  again  subjected  to  a  test  Dost  thou  do  all  the 
good  thou  knowest  to  be  such  ?  For  '  to  him  that 
knoweth  to  do  good,  and  doeth  it  not,  to  him  it  is  sin.' 
But  art  thou  deficient  in  no  single  point  ?  For  suppos- 
ing that  thou  didst  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  didst 
offend  in  one  point,  thou  art  guilty  of  .all.  How  does  it 
therefore  stand  with  thee ;  especially  with  regard  to 
love,  this  royal  law  ?  Does  that  which  thou  doest 
arise  from  compulsatory  motives,  or  to  procure  thy  sal- 
vation ?  Thou  probably  judgest  others,  and  art  there- 
fore not  a  doer,  but  a  judge. 

In  this  manner  the  Apostle  shakes  the  foundation  of 
every  thing  in  its  turn.  He  first  of  all  attacks  prayer, 
then  faith,  and  then  works.  For  what  purpose? 
A  house  that  is  built  on  a  rock  must  be  able  to  with- 
stand the  winds  and  the  waves ;  if  it  falls,  the  founda- 
tion is  bad.  *  When  a  man  is  tried,  he  shall  receive 
the  crown  of  life,  which  God  has  promised  to  those  who 
love  him.'  He  mentions  Jesus  Christ  only  twice  ;  and 
if  we  join  with  it  the  word  Lord,  only  five  times  in  the 
whole  epistle:  whilst  Peter,  in  a  much  shorter  one, 
names  him  upwards  of  twenty  times.  James  acts  in  a 
proper  manner  with  the  kind  of  people  he  had  before 
him.  Nothing  is  effected  by  the  mere  talking  about 


138  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

Christ,  faith,  and  good  works.  The  individual  must 
first  become  acquainted  with  his  natural  state;  his 
boasting  of  prayer,  faith,  and  works,  will  then  be  at  an 
end  ;  and  he  will  become  wretched,  so  as  to  weep  and 
mourn.  When  in  this  school,  he  must  learn  patience  ; 
in  due  time  he  will  also  be  able  to  look  into  the  perfect 
law  of  liberty,  and  then  be  blessed  in  his  deed. 
We  find  this  confirmed  in  the  history  of  Jacob. 


GENESIS  xxxii.  29. 

And  Jacob  asked  him,  and  said,  Tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  thy 
name.  And  he  said,  Wherefore  is  it  that  thou  dost  ask 
after  my  name  ? 

LET  us  more  closely  consider  the  meaning  of  these 
words,  and  investigate, 

I.  The  Patriarch's  inquiry  ;  and, 
II.  The  Lord's  reply. 

The  Lord  had  asked  Jacob  how  he  was  called,  not 
as  if  he  did  not  know  it,  but  in  order  to  give  him  a 
name  more  in  accordance  with  his  present  state  of  grace. 
Jacob,  meanwhile,  feels  emboldened  to  ask  his  antag- 
onist his  name.  It  may  be  that  he  was  desirous  of 
knowing  how  the  Lord  ought  properly  to  be  called. 
He  was  usually  called  'Elohim' — the  most  High. 
God  himself  had  said  to  Abraham,  (  I  am  the  El  Shad- 
dai,  the  almighty  or  all-sufficient  God.'  He  was  also 
called  simply  El,  the  Strong  One.  But  these  appella- 


SERMON  IX.  139 

tions  no  longer  satisfied  the  patriarch  after  his  recent 
experience.  They  all  expressed  something  of  the  Di- 
vine glory,  but  none  of  them  the  whole  of  it.  There 
was  probably  an  ardor  in  his  soul,  which  would  gladly 
have  poured  itself  out  in  hymns  of  praise,  but  for  which 
he  could  not  find  words.  He  that  can  worthily  praise 
God,  must  be  God  himself.  When  the  Son  said,  *  Fa- 
ther, I  thank  thee,'  he  was  perfectly  praised ;  but  all 
the  praises  of  all  created  things  are  called  a  silence, 
because  they  fall  far  short  of  their  infinite  object.  It  is 
like  the  praise  of  a  little  child,  that  commends  some 
one  for  being  wise  or  rich ;  but  to  which  praise  no  one 
pays  particular  attention,  because  a  little  child  knows 
so  little  what  it  is  to  be  wise  or  rich.  Such  is  the  case 
with  us  in  comparison  with  God.  We  are  however 
able,  on  our  part,  to  adduce  a  perfect  praise  of  God,  of 
which  angels  are  incapable ;  since  Jesus  Christ,  the 
God-man,  is  made  unto  us  righteousness  and  sanctifi- 
cation,  and  we  in  him  are  the  righteousness  of  God. 

But  Jacob  doubtless  was  not  anxious  merely  about 
the  name,  when  he  said,  *  Tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  thy 
name.'  I  think  he  meant  to  say  by  it,  "  Lord,  how 
shall  I  call  thee  ?  I  know  not  what  to  think,  much  less 
to  say.  Such  a  condescension  as  that  which  thou  hast 
shown  to  me,  who  am  but  dust,  is  more  than  my  heart 
could  have  remotely  anticipated.  I  know  and  confess, 
that  thou,  O  Lord  !  art  wonderful  and  gracious.  I  know 
how  thou  hast  condescended  to  my  forefather  Abraham, 
and  didst  converse  with  him  as  one  friend  with  another. 
I  know  that  thou  art  wonderful,  as  thou  didst  show  thy- 
self,  when  desiring  ray  father  Isaac  as  a  sacrifice.  I 


140  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

know,  from  my  own  experience,  how  gracious  thou  art. 
Thou  didst  once  appear  to'  me  in  a  dream,  and  thou 
hast  impressed  promises  upon  my  heart,  which  I  cannot 
doubt  proceed  from  thee.  Thou  hast  blessed  me  out- 
wardly, so  that  I  am  become  a  rich  man.  But  what 
hast  thou  now  done  to  me  1  Thou  disguisest  thyself  in 
my  flesh  and  blood,  and  becomest  like  one  of  us ;  thou 
feignest  thyself  to  be  my  opponent,  in  order  to  do  me 
good  !  'Thou  even  wrestlest  with  me !  Thou  grievest 
me,  only  to  console  me  !  Thou  breakest  down  all  my 
strength,  in  order  to  declare  that  thou  art  in  my  power. 
Thou  givest  me  a  new  name,  which  represents  me  as 
the  conqueror  and  thee  as  the  conquered,  and  which 
renders  that  which  is  impossible  real.  Thou  art  not 
ashamed  to  declare  that  I,  a  worm,  have  striven  with 
God,  and  have  prevailed ;  although  all  victory  lies  in 
thy  hands.  Thou  entreatest  me  to  let  thee  go ;  as  if  I 
could  compel  thee  to  remain,  and  to  do  what  I  please. 
It  was  thou  who  madest  me  competent  to  all  this,  and 
yet  commendest  me,  as  if  I,  a  poor  timid  creature,  had 
done  it  of  myself.  Thou,  who  art  the  Holy  One,  suf- 
ferest  thyself  to  be  embraced  by  my  unholy  arms  ;  thou, 
who  art  Almighty,  to  be  overcome  by  one  so  weak  as 
I !  This  is  too  much,  this  is  too  wonderful  and  too 
lofty  ;  I  cannot  comprehend  it.  Tell  me,  what  is  thy 
name  ?  What  shall  I  say  of  thee  ?  for  I  know  not. 
Who,  indeed,  can  know  how  he  ought  to  bless,  praise, 
exalt,  and  extol  thee  as  he  ought,  when  he  learns  and 
is  conscious  of  what  thou  doest  to  thy  children  ?" 

If  it  had  been  said  to  Jacob,  thus  filled  with  God, 
"  This  that  the  Lord  hath  now  done  unto  thee,  is  some- 


SERMON  IX.  141 

thing  very  trifling  compared  with  that  which  he  is  will- 
ing to  do  for  thee.  He  has,  in  this  instance,  assumed 
the  human  form  only  for  a  short  time ;  but  in  the  ful- 
ness of  time  he  will  reaDy  be  born  of  a  woman,  and  not 
spend  merely  a  few  hours,  but  three  and  thirty  years, 
upon  earth ;  suffer  in  body  and  soul  the  most  extreme 
anguish  ;  and  even  die  for  Israel,  that  they  may  live. 
And  the  people  will  not  meet  him,  as  thou  hast  done, 
with  prayers  and  tears,  but  with  great  wrath  and  bitter 
fury  will  they  do  him  all  conceivable  injury ;  whilst 
He,  from  love,  will  bear  it  as  a  lamb."  If  the  Patri- 
arch could  then  have  been  told  these  things — which 
not  fitted,  however,  for  that  period — "  Oh,"  he 
would  have  exclaimed,  by  God's  grace,  "  I  can  believe 
it !  I  can  believe  it !  What  can  be  too  much  for  Him 
to  perform  ?"  Had  he  been  told  that  he  would  be  call- 
ed Love,  he  would  have  exclaimed,  "  That  is  his  true 
name  !"  And  who  can  say  what  an  insight  Jacob  may 
have  obtained  into  the  mystery  of  salvation  during  this 
it,  and  of  which  he  uttered  many  things  in  his  part- 
ing blessing  ?  .  At  least,  Jesus  says  of  Abraham,  *  He 
saw  my  day,  and  was  glad.' 

It  is  also  certain,  that  when  the  Lord's  people  have 
>}u-nt  a  period  of  profound  trial  and  inward  suffering, 
he  is  often  wont  to  refresh  them  in  a  very  especial 
manner.  The  darker  and  more  anxious  the  previous 
night,  the  more  reviving,  the  more  ravishing  is  the 
light  which  succeeds ;  the  more  profound  the  com- 
plaint, the  more  exalted  the  praise ;  and  the  Lord  is 
never  more  fervently  praised,  than  by  deeply  humbled 
souls.  *  He  will  regard  the  prayer  of  the  destitute, 
13 


142  THE    WRESTLING   OF.  JACOB.     . 

and  not  despise  their  prayer.'  (Psalm  'cii.  17.)  <  Ke~ 
turn  unto  thy  rest,  O  my  soul !  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt 
bountifully  with  thee.  For  thou  hast  delivered  my 
soul- from  death,  mine  -e'yes  from  .-tears,  and  my  feet 
from  falling.'  What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for 
all  his  benefits  towards  me  1  I  will  take -the  cup  of  sal- 
vation, and  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord.  *  Thou 
hast  loosed  my  bonds?  '  (Psalm  cxvi.)  He  perceives, 
in  the  humiliating  paths  by  which  he  has  been  led,  the 
faithfulness  and  kindness  of  the  Lord,  in  the  most  par- 
ticular manner..  -He  finds  that  they  lead  to  nothing  but 
blessing,  although- he. perhaps  thought  at  the  time,  that, 
if  the -Lord  loved"  him  in  any  degree,  he  would  have 
acted  very  differently.  But  now  everything  becomes 
clear  to  him,  and -he  thinks  he  will  despond.no  more, 
however  strangely  it  may  go  with  him.  But  whether 
he  will  be  able  to  keep  his  word  or  riot,  is  another 
question;  certain  it  is,  that  when  God  withdraws  his 
grace,  nothing  but  sin  and -weakness  is  left  us,  and  the 
being  .willing  to  learn  tnis'  is  also'  wisdom  and  grace, 
But  "  tell  Jne,  I  pray  thee,  thy  name.  Reve'al  thyself 
more  intimately  to  my  soul."  Such  a  desire  is  very 
laudable.  Christ- declares  that c  this  is  life  eternal,  that 
they  might  know  thee,  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus 
Christ  whom  thou  hast  sent.'  .  Paul  found  so  much, 
comprised  in  the'  knowledge  of 'Jesus  Christ,  that  he 
regarded- everything  else  in  comparison  with  it -as  loss 
and  dung.  Moses  also  once  experienced  such  a  strong 
desire,  that  he  prayed,  saying,  *  If  I  have  now  found 
grace  in  thy  sight,  I  beseech. thee  show- me  thy  glory.' 
And  the  Lord  really  granted  him  his  request,  as  far  as 
was  possible-  •  '.'";•  • 


SERMON   II.  143 

In  the  Old  Testament  dispensation,  the  general' in- 
quiry was,  *  Watchman,  what  of  the  night  ?'  The  pro- 
phets who  prophesied  of  the  graot,  which  was  still  to 
be  revealed,  searched  diligently  into  the  meaning  of 
their  predictions,  and  longed  for  the  period,  when  the 
knowledge  of  the  Lord  should  become  general.  An 
acquaintance  with  all  the  blessings  we  have  in  Christ 
Jesus,  invigorates  faith,  as  Paul  writes  to  Philemon ; 
and  it  is  very  desirable  that  the  morning  star  should 
arise  in  the  dark  place  of  our  hearts,  and  the  day 
dawn  ;  that  thus  the  path  of  the  just  may  increase  in 
brightness,  *  even  as  the  shining  light,  which  shineth 
more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day.'  (Prov.  iy.  18.) 

'  I  am  known  of  mine,'  says  Jesus.  O  glorious  ag- 
quaintance,  ^in  which  'everything  may  be  met  with 
which  can  strengthen,  delight,  cheer,  and  tranquilize 
us,  and  which  Jesus  justly  declares  to  be  eternal  life. 
An  acquaintance,  which  is  like  an  inexhaustible  mine, 
from  whence  we  receive  grace  upon  grace  ;  a  know- 
.ledge  irrespective  of  which,  there  is  no  rest  for  the  souk. 
The  Old  Testament  church — and  with  it,  the  heart  of 
the  awakened  individual — longs  and  languishes  for 
light;  until  it  is  said  to  the  cities  of  Judah,  'Behold 
your  God-' 

How  can  it  fail,  that  he  who  finds  an  inward  rest  f6r 
his  soul,  and  whose  inward  powers  and  faculties  are 
collected  from  a  state  of  multiplicity-  into  a  state  of 
unity  ;  who  enjoys  intimate  intercourse  with  Jesus 
Christ,  and  is  acquainted  with  him  as  made  of  God  unto 
him  wisdom,  righteousness,  sanctification,  and  redemp- 
tion ;  should  be  satisfied  even  in  the  midst  of  poverty 
and  barrenness,  since  he  has  all  in  Christ  ? 


144  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

Who  would  not  long  for  such  an  acquaintance,  and 
pray,  "  Make  thyself  known  to  me;  cause  thy  face  to 
shine  upon  me ;  mate  me  acquainted  with  thee  !"  es- 
pecially since  we  have  the  promise,  '  Thou  shalt  know 
the  Lord.'  Certainly,  this  is  a  pearl  worthy  of  the 
whole  of  our  poor  property ;  a  treasure,  for  the  sake  of 
which,  we  may  well  sell  every  thing  in  order  to  obtain 
it.  But  it  is  only  in  the  light  of  God  that  we  see  light. 
Blessed  are  the  eyes  which  see  what  ye  see.  '  Flesh 
and  blood  has  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but  my  Father 
which  is  in  heaven.'  But  as  long  as  the  Christian  is 
not  duly  acquainted  with  his  Lord  and  head,  he  feels 
like  Noah's  dove,  which  found  no  rest  for  her  foot.  If 
he  finds  rest,  he  is  soon  again  disturbed ;  if  he  thinks 
he  possesses  something,  it  is  soon  taken  from  him  again, 
because  he  still  desires  to  possess  it  in  himself,  and  not 
in  Christ ;  if  he  falls  into  straits,  he  is  again  embarrass- 
ed as  before;  for  he  still  looks  to  himself,  because 
Moses  and  Elias  have  not  yet  disappeared,  so  as  to 
leave  Christ  alone. 

But  the  Lord  replied, '  Wherefore  is  it,  that  thou  dost 
ask  after  my  name  ?' — and  with  this  he  breaks  off. 
This  is  strange  !  When  Manoah,  the  father  of  Sam- 
son, besought  him  to  tell  him  his  name,  he  acted  almost 
in  a  similar  manner,  and  replied,  '  Why  askest  thou 
thus  after  my  name,  seeing  it  is  secret  ?'  (Judges  xiii. 
18.)  Moses  also  entreated  him  to  tell  him  his  name, 
in  order  that  if  the  children  of  Israel  should  inquire 
what  was  the  name  of  the  God  who  had  sent  him,  he 
might  be  able  to  give  them  an  answer.  To  which  the 
Lord  replied  in  a  singular  manner,  '  I  AM  THAT  I  AM. 


SERMON    IX.  •  145 

Thus  shalt  thou  say  unto  the  children  of  Israel,  I  AM 
hath  sent  me  unto  you.'  (Exod.  iii.  13, 14.)  God  af- 
terwards called  himself  Jehovah ;  which  name  compre- 
hends in  it  the  ideas,  He  is,  was,  and  shall  be,  and  of 
which  God  says,  in  chap.  vi.  3,  *  I  appeared  unto  Abra- 
ham, unto  Isaac,  and  unto  Jacob,  by  the  name  of  God 
Almighty ;  but  by  my  name  Jehovah  was  I  not  known 
to  them.'  But  he  was  then  desirous  of  being  known 
and  honored  under  this  title.  In  the  days  of  Moses, 
the  first  syllable  of  this  name,  *  he  shall  be,'  was  the 
most  important.  Hitherto  he  had  revealed  himself  in 
an  intimate  manner  only  to  individuals ;  but  then,  he 
wished  to  showtaall  lands,  and  to  the  people  of  Israel  in 
particular,  by  a  multitude  of  great  and  mighty  wonders, 
what  kind  of  a  being  he  was.  They  were  to  be  con- 
tinually in  the  full  expectation  of  the  things  that  should 
come  to  pass,  until  they  should  at  length  be  able  to  ex- 
claim, '  Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given,' 
until  the  times  should  be  fulfilled  that  he  sent  his  Son. 
But  even  in  the  New  Testament,  the  name  Jehovah 
— '  he-  that  >hall  come' — is  still  in  operation.  .Hence 
it  often  appears  in  the  revelations  of  St.  John,  not  in- 
deed as  the  word  itself,  but  the  translation  of  it,  *  He 
that  was  and  is,  and  is  to  come;'  because  the  New 
Testament  church  also  continually  waits  for  new  reve- 
lations of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  hearts  of  the  elect, 
and  in  the  coming  of  his  kingdom  ;  until  at  length, 
after  the  complete  accomplishment  of  all  the  Divine 
counsels,  and  alter  the  new  Jerusalem  shall  have  de- 
scended out  of  heaven  from  God,  it  shall  be  said, '  It  is 
done  !'  And,  what  will  then  occur,  no  eye  hath  ever 
13* 


146  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

seen ;  for  this  name  Jehovah  flows  on  through  all  eter- 
nity as  a  beautifying  stream. 

6  He  was,'  is  the  second  syllable,  and  shows  us  that 
Moses  preached  to  them,  not  a  new,  but  the  old  un- 
changeable God.  He  is  ever  the  same  in  hirnself,  in 
his  covenant,  in  his  manifestations — a  God  of  perfect 
blessedness;  whilst  without  him  and  his  fellowship, 
there  is  nothing  but  delusion,  deceit,  and  unhappiness. 

But  why  does  not  the  Lord  answer  Jacob's  question, 
since  he  himself  excited  it  in  his  heart  ?  The  Lord 
often  acts  in  a  manner  according  with  his  name  '  Won- 
derful.' What  was  the  reason  why  he  said  to  Mary 
Magdalen,  who  by  his  appearing  was  most  joyfully  as- 
tonished, and  doubtless  fell  upon  the  ground  before  him 
in  order  to  embrace  his  feet — why  did  he  say  to  her, 
'  Touch  me  not !  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  my  Fa- 
ther ;'  although,  immediately  afterwards,  he  suffered 
the  other  women  whom  he  met,  to  touch  him  in  this 
manner  ?  Why  did  he  break  off  so  unexpectedly  from 
her,  as  here  from  Jacob  ?  Why  did  he  vanish  from 
the  eyes  of  the  two  disciples  in  Emmaus,  at  the  very 
moment  when  he  made  himself  known  to  them,  as  if 
unwilling  that  they  should  express  their  feelings  to- 
wards him ;  not  to  mention  the  singular  answers  which 
he  frequently  gave  to  the  Jews :  for  instance,  on  their 
asking  by  what  authority  he  did  those  things,  he  re- 
plied, c  I  will  also  ask  you  one  thing  ;  and  answer  me.' 
To  their  question,  Who  art  thou  then  ?  he  replied, 
'  Even  I  that  speak  unto  you.'  At  their  urgent  inter- 
rogatory, How  long  wilt  thou  keep  us  in  suspense ;  if 
thou  art  the  Christ,  tell  us  plainly  ?  he  answered,  '  I 


SERMON  IX.  147 

have  already  told  you,  but  ye  believe  not ;  for  ye  are 
not  of  God.'  But  frequently  he  told  them  far  more 
than  they  wished  to  know,  and  were  only  offended 
by  it. 

His  name  is  *  Wonderful.'  Jacob,  Mary,  and  the 
disciples  at  Emmaus,  probably  saw  afterwards  the  wis- 
ddlh  of  the  behavior  of  Jesus  towards  them,  although 
it  might  appear  strange  to  them  at  the  time.  If  the 
Lord  is  willing  fully  to  satisfy  the  desire  which  he  has 
implanted  in  his  children,  he  must  make  them  parta- 
kers of  the  whole  blessing,  which  he  purchased  for 
them  on  the  cross.  He  is  also  willing  to  do  this,  ac- 
cording to  his"  name;  *  He  that  shall  be ;'  not  here 
below,  but  in  paradise.  Hence  we  must  learn  to  be 
content  and  satisfied  with  our  daily  bread.  Nor  must 
we  be  astonished,  if,  when  enjoying  some  gracious 
communication,  something  all  at  once  intervenes,  whilst 
we  believed  more  would  have  been  added.  Here  we 
still  dwell  in  Meseck,  and  are  not  yet  at  home  in  the 
Lord,  but  in  patience  wait  for  him.  And  this  waiting 
is  an  essential  part  of  religion,  in  which  the  Lord  has 
exercised  his  church  from  the  beginning  even  until 
now. 

The  Lord  does  all  things  well  in  due  time,  in  general, 
as  well  as  in  particular — He  only  knows  also  the  pro- 
per manner ;  and  hence  we  must  be  content  to  be  told, 
'  my  hour  is  not  yet  come.'  Jacob's  question  was  also 
fully  answered  ;  eternity,  however,  is  destined  for  its 
further  elucidation.  Israel  thought  he  might  then  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  whole  mystery  of  redemp- 
tion ;  but  a  couple  of  .centuries  must  elapse  ere  it  was 


148  '    THE   WRESTLING    OF   JACOB. 

fully  made  known.  Israel  was  obliged  to  learn  to. 
wait — to  see  the  promises  afar  off,  and  to  be  satisfied 
with  it.  He  was  satisfied,  and  held  his  peace.  • 

This  waiting  continued  until  it  was  proclaimed, 
*  Behold,  I  bring  you  glad  tidings  of  great  joy,  which 
shall  be  unto  all  people' — and  then  again,  when  it.  was 
said, '  It  is  finished  !'.  the  waiting  recommenced,  untJPit 
was  said,  (  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed !'  Again  the 
people  of  God  began  to  wait,  and  expressed  their  ex- 
pectations, in  the  question, '  Lord,  wilt  thou  now  restore 
the  kingdom  unto  Israel ;'  and  were  exercised  by  the 
reply,  '  It  is  not  for  you  to  know  the  times  or  the  sea- 
sons, which  the  Father  hath  put  in  his  own  power.'  It 
therefore  happened  unto  the  disciples  almost  as  it  did  to 
their  forefather  Jacob.  Jesus  ascended  up  into  heaven, 
and  the  church  was  again  instructed  to  wait,  when  the 
Lord  sent  word  from  heaven,  saying, '  This  same  Jesus 
shall  so  come  in  like  manner  as  ye  have  seen  him  go 
into  heaven.'  (Acts  i.  11.)  Since  that  time  it  has 
continued  to  pray,  for  nearly  two  thousand  years,  '  Thy 
kingdom  come !'  Often  indeed  was  the  inquiry  made, 
'  Lord,  wilt  thou  not  at  this  time  restore  the  kingdom 
to  Israel  V  under  the  idea  that  it  would  be  the  case ; 
but  the  same  reply  was  again  given,  ''  To  you  it  is 
not  given  to  know  either  the  day  or  the  hour.'  It  now 
continues  quietly  to  wait,  assured  that  He  will  accom- 
plish it  in  his  time.  It  must  not  be  taken  amiss  of  the 
church,  that  it  has  frequently  miscalculated  in  its  joy, 
and  been  compelled  to  wait  afresh  ;  which  is  certainly 
painful,  since  the  thing  is  so  desirable  for  which  it 
hopes.  But  if  it  tarry,  wait  for  it.  It  will  certainly 


SERMON  DC.  149 

come,  and  will  not  tarry.  Although  with  regard  to  de- 
termining the  time,  every  year  may  have  witnessed  a 
similar  mistake  to  that  of  the  disciples,  yet  the  thing 
itself  remains  true,  and  we  continue  to  pray,  '  Thy 
kingdom  come,'  until  we,  or  our  descendants,  are 
enabled  to  say,  *  Thine  is  the  kingdom.' 

Such  is  also  the  case  with  individual  Christians, 
They  must  wait — not  merely  for  perfect  salvation  and 
glorification,  but  also,  for  being  made  meet  for  it.  It  is 
often  very  painful,  when,  though  possessing  the  will  to 
perform  what,  is  good,  the  ability  is  wanting  ;  when, 
although  we  clearly  perceive  that  we  might  be  far 
more  happy  and  courageous  in  our  spiritual  course,  yet 
we  are  unable  to  attain  to  it ;  when  we  see  -how  com- 
fortable those  are,  who  can  hold  confidential  intercourse 
with  the  Savior,  who  believe  in  a  child-like  manner, 
who  pray  without  ceasing,  cast  all  their  care  upon  the 
Lord,  rejoice  in  him  continually,  and  confide  themselves 
without  anxiety  to  his  guidance  and  providence ; 
and  when  we  clearly  perceive,  that  this  is  not  only 
something  very  blissful  and  very  sacred,  but  also  pos- 
sible, and  by  God's  grace  attainable ;  but  yet  are  com- 
pelled at  the  same  time  to  say,  "  Ah,  who  will  give  me 
the  wings  of  an  eagle !"  and  are  obliged  to  confess, 
that  this  is  not  attainable  by  human  effort,  and  that  no 
one  can  receive  anything  except  it  be  given  him  from 
heaven. 

But  when  it  is  not  yet  given  the  individual,  and  a 
more  intimate  manifestation  of  the  Lord  to  his  soul  is 
still  denie<}  him,  this  state  is  more  painful  than  those 
are  able  to  conceive  of,  who  are  already  full,  and,  as 
the  Apostle  says,  *  reign  without  us.' 


"150  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

However,  *  faithful  is  he  who  hath  called  you,  who 
also  will  do  it.'  If  it  be  once  given  you.  duly  to  appre- 
hend, believe,  and  understand  the  .words,  '  Who  also 
will  do  it' — your  peace  will  flow  like  a  river,  and  your 
righteousness  as  the  waves  of  the  sea.  Yea,  he  will  do 
it !  O  bless*  the  Lord  !  Amen.  .  - 


SERMON  X 


WHEN  Paul  says,  that  his  preaching  consisted  npt  in 
excellency  of  speech  or  human  wisdom,  be  states  some- 
thing that. is  applicable  to  the.whole  of  Scripture,  which 
presents  to  darkened  reason  a  labyrinth,  out  of  which  it 
sees  no  outlet,  and. something  that  also  very  frequently 
applies  to  the  •  ways  in  which  God  leads  his  people. 
Whet  deep  complaints  are  uttered  by  the  man  after 
God's  own  heart  in  Psalm  xxxviii. ;  from  which,  how- 
ever, we  will  only  adduce"  the  tenth  verse,  where  he 
says,.*  My  strength  faileth  me.'  Strength  is  riecessary 
in  order  to  labor ;  and  he  who  does  iiot  possess  it,  is  in- 
capable of  the  latter.  TEe  Christian  must  labor  much. 
He  must  watchj  pray,  deny  himself;  preserve  himself 
unspotted  from  the  world ;  lay  aside  the  sin  \vhich  so 
r;isily  besets  him,  and  renders  him.  slothful,  put  on  the 
armor  of  light ;  believe — -because  without  faith  it  is  im- 
possible to  please  God';  love — because  only  he  that  loveth 
abideth  in  God,  and  God  in  him  ;  in  short,  to  say  every 
thing  in  few  words,  he  must '  work  out  his  own  salva- 
tion with  fear  and  trembling.'  Let  us  not,  think'  to  ex- 
cuse ourselves  with  the  idea  that  we  are  unable*to  do 
this ;  for  the  debtor  menti&ned  by  our  Lord,  was  deliv- 
ered over  to  the  tormentors,  just  because  he  was  not 
able  to  pay. 

David  was  able  to  do  it.  It  is  true,  he  never  ima- 
gined he  did  it  perfectly,  but  confessed  that  no  one  can 


152  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

understand  his  errors ;  yet  he  succeeded.  What  did  he 
not  possess,  whom  Saul  called  a  stripling,  whose  form 
was  more  pleasing  than  great ;  what  courage  did  he 
possess,  and  how  much  did  he  accomplish  !  A  lion 
and  a  bear  once  attacked  his  flock,  and  carried  off  a 
lamb  ;  but  the  little  beautiful  boy  ran  after  him,  smote 
him,  and  rescued  the  lamb  from  his  jaws ;  and  on  its 
attacking  himself,  he  caught  it  by  the  beard,  smote  it, 
and  slew  it.  O  pleasing  type  of  Christ !  The  fair  and 
ruddy  youth  had  courage  enough  to  go  forth  against 
the  Philistine,  whose  height  was  six  cubits  and  a  span, 
when  every  one  else  fled  before  him.  His  brother 
Eliab  angrily  reproached  him  for  being  presumptuous, 
and  thought  he  would  do  better  to  go  and  tend  the  few 
sheep  in  the  wilderness.  But  it  was  not  presumption ; 
it  was  confidence  in  the  living  God.  The  fair-faced  cou- 
rageous youth  probably  did  not  at  that  time  anticipate  that 
he  should  ever  compose  such  a  Psalm  as  the  38th  ;  and 
lament  in  it  that  his  strength  failed  him.  If  his  strength 
had  departed,  he  was  no  longer  able  to  accomplish  that 
which  he  could  otherwise  have  performed,  and  which 
was  at  other  times  easy  to  him ;  it  was  now  become 
difficult,  and  even  impracticable.  '  I  am  feeble,  and 
sore  broken,'  says  he  in  verse  8  ;  '  I  have  roared  by 
reason  of  the  disquietness  of  my  heart ;'  according  to 
Psalm  Ixxvii.,  he  was  so  troubled  that  he  could  not 
speak^much  less  accomplish  anything.  What  was  the 
reason  of  so  much  wretchedness  ?  His  iniquity  was  the 
cause  of  it ;  on  which  account  he  at  length  says,  '  I 
know,  0  Lord,  that  thy  judgments  are  just,  and  that  in 
faithfulness  thou  hast  afflicted  me.' 


SERMON   X.  153 

.  What  was  it  that  failed  him  ?  Not  all  strength  in  the 
general,  but  his  own  strength.  *  My  strength  faileth 
me.'  Before,  he  had  been  able  to  do  much  that  was 
good  ;  but  this  is  now  at  an  end.  No  wonder  that  he 
began  to  be  troubled  about  his  sin.  In  verse  17,  we 
are  told  he  was  ready  to  halt.  This  was  a  severe  trial 
to  self-love,  self-righteousness,  and  to  the  life  of  self. 
But  whom  the  Lord  loveth,  he  overthrows  in  this  man- 
ner, and  gives  them  over  unto  death. 

What  was  the  result  of  this  guidance  ?  He  never  ob- 
tained his  own  strength  again,  nor  did  he  wish  for  it ; 
God  has  no  pleasure  in  the  strength  of  a  man.  No- 
thing was  left  him,  but  to  declare  his  iniquity,  and  to 
hope  in  the  Lord;  who  according  to  Psalm  Ixviii., 
gives  his  people  might  and  power.  His  own  strength 
was  then  no  longer  needed ;  he  was  then  strong  when 
he  was  weak,  and  great,  by  being  humbled.  Then  he  no 
longer  said,  '  I  care ;'  but,  *  I  lay  me  down  and  sleep 
in  peace,  for  thou,  Lord,  only  causest  me  to  dwell  in 
safety.' 

Strange  beginning  !  glorious  end  !  Such  is  also  the 
'case  in  the  history  of  Jacob. 


GENESIS   XXXII.  29. 
And  he  blessed  him  there. 

Jacob  now  receives  the  blessing  on  the  very  spot  on 
which  he  had  been  obliged  to  wrestle.     We  will  con- 
sider this  a  little  more  minutely. 
14 


154  THE    WRESTLING   OF    JACOB. 

Israel  had  entreated  a  blessing,  and  that  with  a  fer- 
vor and  resolution  which  would  take  no  refusal :  *  I 
will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me.'  This  was 
the  Lord's  own  work  in  the  soul  of  his  servant.  It 
was  a  prayer  according  to  his  will ;  and  '  if  we  ask 
any  thing  according  to  his  will,  he  heareth  us.'  This 
prayer  flowed  from  a  profound  and  vital  feeling,  from 
a  heartfelt  consciousness  of  the  necessity  of  a  superior 
communication  of  grace.  It  was  a  hungering  and 
thirsting  after  righteousness,  which  Jesus  pronounces 
blessed,  on  account  of  the  satisfaction  attendant  upon  it, 
and  to  which  the  latter  is  secured. 

What  was  it  that  Jacob  particularly  desired  in  im- 
ploring a  blessing  1  He  had  already  a  sufficiency  of 
earthly  wealth ;  and  in  spiritual  things  he  probably  did 
not  regard  himself  as  one  who  has  no  part  in  the  Di- 
vine blessing,  and  who  is  not  an  object  of  the  good 
pleasure  and  love  of  God ;  by  no  means.  He  intended 
by  itifirst,  a  confirmation  of  the  blessing  received  from 
his  father,  in  virtue  of  which  he  was  to  be  the  progeni- 
tor of  the  promised  Savior  of  the  world.  This  is  prov- 
ed by  his  high  esteem  and  love  for  the  Redeemer. 
Esau,  his  brother,  might  have  had  the  first  claim  to  it, 
on  account  of  his  being  the  first-born ;  but  he  thought 
so  little  of  the  Redeemer,  that  he  sold  his  birth-right, 
with  all  its  privileges,  for  a  mess  of  pottage  ; — a  figure 
of  all  those  who  esteem  temporal  blessings,  and  sensi- 
ble and  sinful  delights,  more  highly  than  the  favor  of 
God.  Esau  obtained  what  he  sought — earthly  prospe- 
rity ;  and  in  this  respect  far  exceeded  Jacob.  The  lat- 
ter laad  only  a  sufficient  number  of  servants,  whilst  Esau 


SERMON  X.  155 

could  take  the  field  with  four  hundred  armed  men ; 
which  was  at  that  time  a  great  number.  The  children 
ni  lOsau  were  immediately  termed  princes,  (ch.  xxxvi.), 
and  they  were  numerous.  Two  of  them  were  called 
Eliphaz  and  Teman  ;  and  as  these  names  were  applied 
to  Job's  friends,  it  is  evident  that  they  were  the  de- 
lants  of  Esau.  As  they  make  no  mention  what- 
ever of  the  Redeemer  in  their  discourses  with  Job — to 
whom  the  latter  bears  such  an  excellent  testimony,  and 
who  is  also  mentioned  by  Elihu — we  justly  conclude 
that  Esau  troubled  himself  little  about  it,  and  that  his 
descendants  followed  in  his  steps ;  who,  in  the  case  of 
Job,  only  regarded  temporal  prosperity  as  a  sign  of 
Divine  favor,  and  the  being  deprived  of  it  as  a  proof 
of  the  Divine  displeasure ;  and  hence  declared  Job  to 
be  an  ungodly  man,  by  which  they  at  the  same  time 
proved  their  own  righteousness;  according  to  which 
they  regarded  their  temporal  prosperity  as  a  reward  of 
their  virtue,  and  inferred  from  Job's  affliction,  that  he 
possessed  no  virtue.  They  were  hirelings ;  hence  the 
Lord  said  to  Eliphaz  the  Temanite,  *  My  wrath  is  kin- 
dled against  thee  and  thy  two  friends,  for  ye  have  not 
spoken  of  me  the  thing  that  is  right,  as  my  servant  Job 
hath :'  *  My  servant  Job  shall  pray  for  you,  for  him 
will  I  accept ;  lest  I  deal  with  you  after  your  folly.'  If 
before,  they  would  only  hear  of  their  own  righteousness, 
and  not  of  a  mediator,  tin  y  were  now  obliged  to  be 
content  to  accept  of  Job's  mediation,  and  hear  that  the 
Divine  displeasure  \v;is  kindled  against  them,  notwith- 
standing their  i^reat  wisdom  and  virtue,  in  which  they 
thought  they  so  much  excelled  Job ;  and  they  were  in 


156  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

great  danger  of  experiencing  the  most  painful  proofs  of 
it.  God  regarded  all  their  boasted  wisdom  as  folly, 
however  much  they  had  said  that  was  true  and  excel- 
lent ;  and  testified,  respecting  his  servant  Job,  whose 
whole  wisdom  was  at  last  comprised  in  this  single  ex- 
pression, ( I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,'  notwith- 
standing all  that  he  had  uttered  in  his  haste, '  Ye  have 
not  spoken  of  me  the  thing  that  is  right,  as  my  servant 
Job  hath.'.  We  must  hope  that  in  this  manner,  their 
own  wisdom  and  righteousness  were  in  mercy  put  to 
shame,  and  that  they  learnt  with  Job  to  comfort  them- 
selves with  a  Redeemer,  and  with  Elihu  to  look  unto 
the  One  of  a  thousand,  who  says, (  Deliver  him  from 
going  down  to  the  pit.' 

Esau  and  his  posterity  soon  established  themselves 
in  Mount  Seir,  and  had  already  kings  of  their  own, 
whilst  Israel's  descendants  were  still  in  circumstances 
of  difficulty  ;  as  a  proof  that  the  Divine  favor  and  tem- 
poral sufferings  may  not  only  well  exist  together,  but 
that  the  cross  generally  accompanies  grace,  and  that 
those  are  not  necessarily  the  children  of  God,  with 
whom  every  thing  succeeds  according  to  their  wish. 
Jacob  called  his  life  a  pilgrimage,  and  thus  proved  that 
he  sought  a  country  beyond  the  limits  of  the  visible 
world.  He  gladly  chose  Christ,  even  with  the  cross ; 
which  mind  was  afterwards  manifested  very  gloriously 
in  Moses,  that  true  Israelite,  when  he  chose  rather  to 
suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God,  than  to  enjoy 
the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season  ! 

But  what  ideas  must  Esau  have  had  of  the  blessing 
of  God,  on  comparing  himself  with  Jacob  ?  The  lat- 


SERMON  X.  157 

ter  called  him  *  his  Lord,'  and  himself  '  his  servant.' 
And  such  it  really  seemed,  according  to  outward  ap- 
pearance. "  Ah,"  may  Esau  have  thought,  "  what  a 
superstitious  fool  I  was,  to  attach  so  much  value  to  my 
father's  blessing,  as  to  weep  because  my  brother  fore- 
stalled me  in  it !  How  little  reason  I  had  for  doing  so ! 
How  every  thing  succeeds  according  to  my  wish  !  And 
my  brother,  how  does  it  fare  with  him  and  his  blessing  ? 
It  ,is  only  superstition.  And  according  to  reason,  he 
was  in  the  right.  But  did  Jacob  think  so  too  1  Did 
he  think,  "  What  am  I  profited  in  being  preferred  to 
Esau  ?  Wherein  consists  my  preference  ?  In  suffer- 
ing, in  persecution,  in  misfortune'?"  Did  he  think, 
"  The  blessing  was  of  no  importance,  and  it  was  very 
unnecessary  for  my  mother  to  have  been  so  anxious  to 
appropriate  it  to  me  ?'  O  no  !  His  Redeemer  was  his 
treasure,  which  he  would  not  exchange  for  any  consi- 
deration. He  regarded  all  he  possessed  as  a  gracious 
present  of  the  good  pleasure  of  God ;  and  this  made  the 
little  more  precious  to  him,  than  the  abundance  which 
Esau  possessed,  and  respecting  which,  it  was  doubtful 
whether  he  possessed  it  in  wrath  or  from  favor.  Da- 
vid preferred  spending  a  day  in  the  courts  of  God's 
house,  to  a  thousand  in  the  tabernacles  of  the  ungodly. 
Israel  desired  the  confirmation  of  the  promised  bless- 
ing, by  which,  according  to  the  assurance  given  to  his 
predecessor  Abraham,  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
should  be  blessed  in  his  seed.  This  he  preferred  to 
everything  else  ;  and  that  justly.  *  I  have  enough,' 
said  Esau  ;  but  Jacob,  '  I  have  abundance  ;  for  whom 
have  I  in  heaven  but  thee,  and  there  is  none  upon  earth 
14* 


158  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

that  I  desire  beside  thee.  Though  flesh  and  heart  fail, 
yet  God  is  the  strength  of  my  heart,  and  my  portion.' 
This  confirmation  was  Israel's  primary  wish. 

The  second  thing  of  which  he  was  rendered  desirous 
was  a  deeper  establishment  in  grace,  greater  liberty  in 
it,  a  greater  facility  in  boldly  resigning  and  committing 
himself  to  it,  by  which  he  might  be  divested  of  a  multi- 
tude of  anxious  cares.  He  had  received  the  blessing 
from  his  father  :  he  had  experienced  repeated  confir- 
mations of  it  from  the  Lord  ;  he  had  received  glorious 
promises,  and  the  most  striking  proofs  of  his  kind  pro- 
vidence and  goodness  ;  but  all  this  had  not  produced 
the  effect  upon  his  state  of  mind,  befitting  such  gracious 
intimations.  He  was  still  subject  to  much  anxiety  and 
fear  respecting  Esau.  One  would  be  inclined  to  think 
and  say,  '  How  is  it  possible,  that  with  such  marks  of 
favor,  and  after  such  experience,  he  could  still  be  ap- 
prehensive that  Esau  might  slay  him,  together  with  his 
children,  since  the  promise  of  God  would  then  be  ren- 
dered void  ?"  Jacob  was  fully  sensible  how  painful 
and  unbecoming  this  was,  without  being  able  to  alter 
it  5  and  felt  compelled  to  apply  to  God  in  prayer,  that, 
together  with  the  promise,  he  would  grant  him  the 
ability  duly  to  co-operate  with  it. 

Such  is  also  frequently  the  case  with  the  Christian. 
After  having  been  so  often  enabled  to  receive  the  pro- 
mise of  the  Gospel,  and  Jesus  Christ  himself,  with  joy- 
ful confidence,  and  to  swear,  '  In  the  Lord  have  I 
righteousness  and  strength  ;'  after  having  been  a  hun- 
dred times  translated  from  darkness  to  light,  and  from 
pressure  into  peace  ;  after  having  been  most  firmly  as- 


SERMON  X.  159 

sured  of  his  having  been  received  into  favor,  and  fre- 
quently inundated  with  consolation,  and  been  so  often 
able  to  trust  in  the  Lord,  that  he  will  surely  perform 
what  he  has  promised,  he  becomes  in  some  measure 
ashamed  of  always  doubting  of  his  reception  to  favor, 
as  he  did  at  the  beginning  :  yet  still  he  possesses  no 
real  peace  and  rest  for  his  soul,  and  cannot  yet  fully 
commit  himself,  with  filial  confidence  and  resignation, 
to  God,  and  all  his  concerns  to  the  Lord,  and  still  feels 
occasionally  fear  and  anxiety.  There  are  many,  in- 
deed, who  think  it  cannot  be  otherwise  here  below  ; 
and  that  every  one  must  satisfy  himself  with  it  as  well 
as  he  is  able.  There  are  also  others  who  have  a  supe- 
rior idea  of  grace.  They  know,  beyond  a  doubt,  that 
grace  is  more  powerful  than  sin  ;  that  the  heart  may 
be  established  with  grace ;  that  the  knowledge  of  Jesus 
Christ  may  be  exceedingly  abundant,  so  as  to  cause  us 
to  count  all  things  but  loss  for  it ;  that  the  law  of  the 
Spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus,  may  make  us  free  from 
the  law  of  sin  and  death  ;  that  we  may  be  purged 
from  an  evil  conscience,  and  that  we  may  find  rest  for 
our  souls. ;  that  from  being  children  we  may  become 
men  and  fathers  in  Christ,  and  that  our  hearts  may  be 
knit  together  in  love,  unto  all  the  riches  of  the  full  as- 
surance of  understanding,  to  the  acknowledgement  of 
the  mystery  of  God,  and  of  the  Father,  and  of  Christ, 
in  whom  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge. In  short,  the  individual  is  compelled  to  form  no 
mean,  but  great  ideas  of  a  really  evangelical  and  New 
Testament  state  of  grace,  with  respect  to  enlightening 
peace,  sanctification,  and  power,  as  is  only  just  and  rea- 


160  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

sonable.  And  not  only  so,  but  he  also  feels  a  power- 
ful hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness — -after  this  per- 
fect liberty,  faith,  and  love ;  and  finds  himself  compelled 
to  declare  with  Jacob,  '  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except 
thou  bless  me.' 

It  is  therefore  no  longer  single,  transient  enlighten- 
ings  and  seasons  of  refreshment  which  he  desires,  but  a 
dwelling  and  abiding  of  Christ  in  the  heart,  a  walking 
before  him  and  in  him,  and  a  being  rooted  in  him.  Be 
it  that  the  soul  is  not  clearly  conscious  of  this ;  yet  still 
there  is  an  impelling  principle  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
within  her,  which  desires,  with  David,  to  be  translated 
out  of  a  strait  place  into  a  large  room.  Thus  it  mani- 
fested itself  also  in  the  disciples,  when  they  prayed, 
4  Lord,  increase  our  faith !'  '  Lord,  teach  us  how  to 
pray !'  because  they  could  no  longer  be  satisfied  with 
their  former  mode  of  believing  and  praying.  '  Lord, 
shew  us  the  Father,  and  it  sufficeth  us,'  said  they ;  and 
Jesus  promised  them  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  should  satisfy 
all  their  desire.  Paul  was  not  satisfied  with  the  be- 
lieving Corinthians,  but  calls  them  babes  and  carnal ; 
nor  with  the  Hebrew  Christians,  '  for  when  for  the  time 
they  ought  to  have  been  teachers,  they  needed  that  one 
should  teach  them  again,  which  were  the  first  princi- 
ples of  the  oracles  of  God.'  He  says  to  the  Galatians, 
that  he  must  travail  again  in  birth  with  them,  until 
Christ  be  formed  in  them.  Christ  reproves  his  disciples 
for  being  so  devoid  of  understanding  ;  and  Peter  says, 
i  Grow  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and 
Savior  Jesus  Christ.' 

No  one,  however,  can  add  one  cubit  to  his  stature, 


SERMON  X.  161 

nor  make  a  hair  white  or  black.  Without  Jesus,  be- 
lievers can  do  nothing,  not  even  think  any  thing  good. 
It  is  God  that  worketh  in  us  both  to  will  and  to  do  that 
which  is  well  pleasing  to  him.  Our  nature  is  never  to 
be  trusted,  however  pious  it  may  appear  to  be,  and  then 
even  the  least  of  all ;  for  from  motives  of  mere  self-love 
and  self-complacency  it  may  seek  to  grow  and  be  some- 
thing superior  ;  hence  also  it  is  said, '  Mind  not  high 
things.'  We  ought  not  to  take  pleasure  in  ourselves. 
Our  self-love  is  shrewd  enough  to  take  pleasure  in 
making  a  display  of  gifts,  grace,  and  a  lofty  standing, 
to  regard  them  as  a  prey,  and  to  let  itself  be  seen  by 
others  in  such  array.  It  will  gladly  pass  with  Simon 
the  sorcerer  for  some  great  one.  This  desire  to  become 
something  may  be  the  motive  for  much  labor,  effort, 
and  diligence,  in  things  which  in  themselves  are  holy 
and  good  ;  and  a  long  time  may  elapse  before  the  in- 
dividual himself  perceives  it.  We  may  be,  or  seek  to 
be,  superior  Christians  in  our  own  eyes  or  those  of  others, 
and  yet  it  may  all  be  nothing  ;  for  what  is  highly  es- 
teemed among  men  is  an  abomination  in  the  sight  of 
God  But  the  gracious  path  he  takes,  is  always  that 
of  bringing  to  nought  that  which  is,  in  order  that  he 
may  be  all  in  all. 

When  was  Jacob  blest  ?  When  did  he  receive  the 
new  and  glorious  name  ?  WTien  was  he  commended  ? 
Only  after  the  wondrous  conflict.  And  what  occurred 
in  the  latter  ?  Did  he  heroine  increasingly  stronger? 
Thus  we  naturally  imagine  it ;  and,  according  to  our 
opinion,  such  is  the  mode  of  procedure.  First,  the  in- 
dividual succumbs  under  the  power  of  his  adversaries  ; 


162  THE    WRESTLING    OF   JACOB. 

he  then  begins  to  struggle ;  whilst  doing  so,  he  in- 
creases in  strength  ;  at  length  he  rises  up,  and  treads 
his  foe  beneath  his  feet.  Such  is  the  idea  reason  forms 
of  it.  But  with  Israel,  the  case  was  entirely  reversed. 
He  begun  the  contest  with  his  whole  strength  ;  which 
however  gradually  decreased;  at  length  it  entirely 
disappeared  when  his  hip  was  dislocated.  The  con- 
flict did  not  indeed  cease  then,  but  was  changed  into 
an  entirely  different  method  of  warfare,  which  consisted 
in  his  throwing  himself  upon  the  neck  of  his  opponent, 
who  now  became  his  only  support.  And  the  very  mo- 
ment when  his  strength  forsook  him,  his  wondrous  an- 
tagonist saw  that  he  could  not  prevail  over  Jacob,  and 
declared  himself  vanquished.  This  is  extremely 
strange  ;  but  the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  right.  Thus  the 
Lord  continues  to  annihilate  that  in  his  children  which 
is,  that  he  may  be  all  in  all. 

On  the  whole,  we  must  recollect,  that  real,  genuine 
religion  consists  in  a  very  essential  experience  of  sin 
and  grace,  of  our  own  misery  and  God's  glory,  of  our 
own  weakness  and  God's  strength,  of  our  own  blind- 
ness and  God's  wisdom ;  and  remember,  at  the  same 
time,  that  in  reality  we  understand  nothing  more  of  it 
than  what  we  experience.  We  must  learn  to  know 
that  God  has  interwoven  the  cross  into  all  his  providen- 
tial dealings,  and  that  the  old  man  gradually  bleeds  to 
death  upon  it  under  them.  The  Scriptures  speak  of  a 
salutary  crucifixion  and  a  dying  with  Christ,  as  well 
as  a  rising  and  being  made  alive  again  with  him. 
Even  as  the  latter  is  something  very  sacred  and  glo- 
rious— so  the  former,  on  the  contrary,  like  every  other 


SERMON  XI.  163 

mode  of  being  put  to  death,  cannot  take  place  without 
anxiety  and  distress,  as  little  as  Jacob's  conflict  could 
be  carried  on  without  pain  and  tears.  Before  Israel 
was  delivered  out  of  Egypt,  their  distress  ahad  reached 
its  height ;  and  Paul  always  bore  about  him  the  dying 
of  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  the  life  of  Christ  might  also  be 
manifested  in  him. 

When  the  disciples  were  about  to  be  elevated  to  a 
higher  state  of  grace,  enlightening  faith,  and  sanctifi- 
cation,  their  souls  fell  previously  into  great  spiritual 
travail  at  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ, 
in  which  they  wept  and  mourned.  It  is  extremely 
easy  to  talk  of  religious  subjects  and  exalted  states, 
and  self-love  can  take  great  pleasure  in  so  doing. 
But  where  essential  grace  exists,  there  all  that  is  mere 
talk  infallibly  ceases;  because  all  foundation  for  it 
is  taken  away,  and  if  the  individual  be  inclined  to 
glory,  it  must  be  in  his  weakness.  '  I  thank  thee 
that  in  faithfulness  thou  hast  afflicted  me  and  help- 
est  me.'  A  life  of  believing  dependence,  in  which 
the  individual  boasts  only  of  the  Lord,  is  in  truth 
and  reality  a  rare  phenomena. 

Now  if  the  Lord  has  wrought  in  a  soul  an  ardent 
hunger  after  a  genuine  state  of  grace,  he  conducts.it 
thither  in  the  way  which  is  best  pleasing  to  him ; 
and,  by  means  which  his  manifold  wisdom  selects  for 
the  purpose — means  and  ways  which  mostly  seem  to 
Reason  any  thing  else  than  suitable,  and  appear  to 
her  ever  the  very  reverse.  For  they  are  in  conform- 
ity to  the  saying,  '  He  that  humbleth  himself  shall  be 
exalted.'  Reason,  which  is  blind  in  the  ways  of  God, 


164  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

hopes  to  become  increasingly  richer  and  stronger  in 
itself,  and  to  require  less  and  less  the  help  of  the  Lord. 
But  it  is  just  the  contrary !  Christ  increasingly  be- 
comes the  one  and  the  all,  the  Alpha  and  Omega,  the 
first  and  the  last ;  so  that  out  of  him,  we  can  neither 
believe  nor  love,  neither  think  nor  desire  anything 
good,  neither  hope  nor  be  patient ;  and  yet  we  are  able 
to  do  all  this,  and  even  more,  through  Christ  which 
strengthened  us.  Thus  Jacob  also,  in  the  end,  could 
neither  stand  nor  walk.  And  it  is  then  that  praying 
without  ceasing  becomes  easy  to  us,  and  that  all  that 
is  necessary  to  life  and  to  godliness  is  given  without 
ceasing  to  us,  and  that  the  Christian  has  nothing,  yet 
possesses  all  things,  is  weak  and  yet  strong,  is  nothing, 
and  hence  is  ablfc  to  do  all  things. 

The  Lord  blessed  Jacob.  This  was  an  actual  reply 
to  Israel's  question, '  Tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  What  is  thy 
name  ?'  The  Patriarch  experienced  it  internally.  His 
former  fear  departed  from  his  soul,  like  the  dawning  of 
the  day  expels  the  shades  of  night.  Even  as  by  its 
pleasing  light  the  refreshing  dew  descends  upon  the 
grass — so  a  heavenly  peace  descended  soothingly  into 
the  distressed  soul  of  the  weary  Patriarch.  The  wild 
animals  retired  into  their  caves,  and  instead  of  their 
horrifying  roar,  the  birds  of  heaven  chanted  their  morn- 
ing hymn,  and  Jacob's  terrific  idea  of  ruin  and  destruc- 
tion dissolved  into  confident  hope.  The  thought  of 
threatening  Esau  and  his  four  hundred  men,  no  longer 
terrified  him ;  he  was  overcome ;  and  Jacob,  more  de- 
fenceless than  yesterday,  was  to  day,  although  lame,  as 
bold  as  a  young  lion.  He  no  longer  needed  to  look  at 


SERMON  X.  165 

the  armed  host.  He  knew  in  whom  he  believed, 
though  Esau  were  to  march  against  him  with  four 
thousand  instead  of  four  hundred  men.  His  heart  was 
enlarged  in  peaceful  confidence  in  his  God. 

•  Thus  the  Lord  blessed  him,  not  in  word,  but  by  an 
essential  impart  at  ion  of  his  inward  grace,  which  far  ex- 
ceeds all  reason. 

O  glorious  communication,  more  precious  than  if  his 
mind  had  been  refreshed  by  words,  and  literal  promises, 
the  effect  of  which  is  seldom  wont  to  be  of  long  dura- 
tion !  .  O  what  mercy,  when  it  is  not  single  alleviations 
that  are  vouchsafed  to  us,  and  which  are  soon  followed 
by  new  distresses  ;  but  when  it  is  given  us  to  '•  come 
up  out  of  the  wilderness  like  pillars  of  perfume,'  and 
to  lean  upon  our  beloved  ;  and  when  it  is  said,  "  How 
beautiful  are  thy  feet  with  shoes,  O  prince's  daughter  !" 
What  mercy,  when  it  is  granted  us  in  future  to  act  in 
a  becoming  manner  towards'  the  Friend  of  our  souls, 
and  to  come  boldly  to  the  mercy  seat ;  quietly  to  walk 
forwards  in  the  profoundest  poverty  of  Spirit,  in  genu- 
ine sincerity  and  complete  faith ;  and  when  our  state  is 
like  that  olBhe  Apostle,  described  in  the  words,  *  I  am 
crucified  with  Christ.  Now  I  live;  yet  not  I,  but 
Christ  liveth  in  me ;  and  tin-  life  which  I  now  live  in 
the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who 
loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me.' 

In  this  blessing,  every  thing  is  comprehended  which 
is  requisite  for  our  commencement  and  progress,  and  our 
awakening  and  deeper  establishment ; — in  a  word,  the 
essential  appropriation,  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  of  the  bless- 
ings of  salvation  purchased  by  Christ,  and  the  Holy 
15 


166  THE    WRESTLING    OF   JACOB. 

Spirit  himself.  When  Jesus,  at  the  close  of  his  resi- 
dence on  earth,  and  as  a  pre-intimation  of  his  employ- 
ment in  heaven,  lifted  up  his  hands,  and  blessed  his  dis- 
ciples, they  no  longer  hid  themselves  behind  closed 
doors  from  fear  of  the  Jews ;  they  began  to  praise  and 
give  thanks ;  they  assembled  together  openly  of  one  ac- 
cord in  the  temple,  for  prayer  and  supplication.  Thus 
the  Lord  first  awakened  in  the  mind  of  the  Patriarch  an 
urgent  craving  after  the  blessing,  so  that  he  could  af- 
firm and  say,  f  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless 
me.'  The  Lord  then  let  him  wait  awhile,  that  he  might 
be  the  more  profoundly  conscious,  that  it  is  not  of  him 
that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but  of  God  that 
sheweth  mercy;  and  in  order  that  he  might  be  the 
more  completely  emptied  of  all  his  own  activity  :  and  - 
then  he  blessed  him  there,  on  the  very  spot  .where  he 
had  been  obliged  to  wrestle.  Hence  the  place  became 
very  memorable  to  him,  and  he  called  it  Peniel — the 
face  of  God. 

It  was  indeed  worth  the  while;  for  such  a  blessing 
is  every  thing.  In  earthly  things  it  causes  the  seed  to 
grow,  the  fruit  of  the  vine  not  to  deceit  the  hope, 
business  to  succeed,  and  prevents  loss  and  injury ;  for 
the  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong ; 
ability 'is  not  sufficient  for  the  procuring  of  a  mainten- 
ance, nor  prudence  for  the  acquisition  of  wealth.  If 
the  Lord  do  not  build  the  house,  they  labor  in  vain 
that  build  it ;  unless  the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  watch- 
man waketh  in  vain.  It  is  in  vain  to  rise  up  early,  to 
sit  up  late,  to  eat  the  bread  of  sorrows;  for  he  giveth  it 
his  beloved  sleeping.  In  vain  thou  weariest  thyself  in 


SERMON    X.  167 

tht-  multitude  of  thy  ways,  and  takest  thought  in  vain 
to  add  one  cubit  to  thy  stature.  But  the  Lord's  bless- 
ing maketh  rich,  and  addeth  no  sorrow  with  it :  every- 
thing then  comes  as  of  itself.  '  Bless  me  also/  cried 
Esau,  and  yet  did  not  obtain  the  blessing ;  as  a  proof 
that  even  earnest  and  real  longing  after  the  blessing  is 
the  Lord's  work  in  the  soul.  Ah,  Esau  the  elder  still 
to  have  the  blessing,  and  to  be  something  great 
and  powerful  :  SL  t-ks  to  compel  God  to  regulate  the 
way  of  salvation  according  as  he  thinks  best,  and  to  be 
righteous  and  perfect  in  himself.  But  in  this  he  will 
never  succeed ;  he  will  not  obtain  the  blessing,  how- 
ever much  he  may  murmur  and  complain.  The  less, 
the  younger,  the  new  man  receives  it,  but  only  when 
the  hip  of  self  is  dislocated,  when  it  is  at  length  said  to 
him,  '  I  have  chosen  thee,  thou  .art  mine.' 

To  Him  be  the  kingdom,  and  the  power,  and  the 
"lory,  for  ever  and  ever !     Amen. 


SERMON   XL 

IT  was  an  unparalleled,  wonderful,  and  incredible 
method,  in  reference  to '  which  it  is  impossible  to  find 
language  sufficiently  glorifying  to  God,  that  king  Je- 
hoshaphat  employed,  when  he  went  forth  to  war,  and 
gained  the  victory  ;  on  which  occasion  it  pleased  God 
to  manifest  his  glory  in  such  an  extremely  striking  man- 
ner, as  we  read  in  2  Chron.  xx. 

In  the  enemy's  great  superiority  of  power,  which 
constrained  Jehoshaphat  to  confess  and  say, '  We  have 
no  might  against  this  great  company  that  cometh 
against  us ;'  and  which  placed  him  in  such  a  dilemma 
that  he  exclaimed, e  Neither  know  we  what  to  do ;'  and 
which  urged  him  to  call  upon  God,  saying,  '  Our  eyes 
are  upon  thee ;'  we  see,  at  the  same  time,  the  object  of 
all  the  afflictions  through  which  we  are  called  to  pass. 
We  are  by  them  to  be  rendered  lowly,  little,  nothing, 
impotent,  and  helpless,  and  to  give  God  the  glory ; 
even  as  Jehoshaphat  said, '  Wilt  thou  not  judge  them  V 
How  desirable,  that  we  should  also  be  brought,  from 
heartfelt  conviction,  to  say,  (  We  have  no  might ;'  and 
be  enabled  at  the  same  time  to  lift  up  our  eyes  unto 
the  hills,  from  whence  cometh  our  help.  How  admira- 
ble is  the  power  of  faith !  Its  basis  is  the  promise, 
*  Thus  saith  the  Lord.'  Its  object  is  God:  '  The  battle 
s  not  yours,  but  God's.'  Its  effect  is  peace  and  com- 


SERMON  XI.  169 

posure :  *  Ye  shall  not  need  to  fight  in  this  battle ;  set 
yourselves,  stand  ye  still,  and  see  the  salvation  of  the 
•  Lord,  who  is  .with  you J'  It  also  produces  deep  humili- 
ty. The  king  prostrates  himself  with  his  whole  peo- 
ple. It  excites  to  thanksgiving  and  praise,  and  the 
ground  of  thankfulness  is  this,  *  His  mercy  endureth  for- 
ever.' It  terminates  in  compile  victory.  Behold 
what  power  God  can  give  toi  Osc,  in  whom  there  is 
no  might,  and  who  know  not  ^R at  they  ought  to  do. 
He  can  enable  them  still  to  believe  in  the  Lord,  and  to 
feel  safe,  when  everything  appears  against  them ;  and 
can  cause  them  to  thank  and  praise  '  with  a  loud  voice 
on  high,'  not  merely  after  having  obtained  the  victory, 
but  even  before  the  commencement  of  the  fight;  for  the 
Lord  is  wonderful  in  his  believing  people,  and  glorious 
in  his  saints. 

Oh,  if  we  could  only  ^believe,  and  do  nothing  else  but 
believe  !  For  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  be- 
lieveth.  But  this  is  only  learnt  in  those  paths  in  which 
Jehoshaphat  learned  it :  '  Not  in  us,  but  in  thy  hand  is 
the  might  and  the  power.'  In  this  manner  the  Pa- 
triarch Jacob  also  learned  it 


15* 


170  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 


GENESIS   XXXII.  30,  31. 

And  Jacob  called  the  name  of  the  place  Peniel ;  for  I  have  seen 
God  face  to  face,  and  my  life  is  preserved.  And  as  he  pass- 
ed over  Peniel,  the  sun  rose  upon  him,  and  he  halted  upon 
his  thigh. 

THE  Lord  had  blessed  Jacob ;  therefore  he  now  let 
him  go.  He  inwardly  felt,  that  though  the  Lord  might 
visibly  disappear  from  him,  yet  he  remained  with  him 
and  in  him.  Such  was  also  the  case  with  the  disciples 
at  the  ascension  of  Jesus.  He  departed  from  them  bo- 
dily, but  spiritually  and  essentially  he  remained  with 
them,  and  continues  with  us  even  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  And  of  this  we  are  conscious  from  his  Spirit. 
which  he  hath  given  us ;  and  from  the  peace,  joy,  and 
power,  which  operate  in  us. 

The  whole  affair  with  Jacob  deserved  a  memorial. 
He  instituted  this,  by  giving  a  new  name  to  the  place 
where  this  remarkable  event  occurred.  Nature  pre- 
sented him  with  an  emblem  of  it — the  rising  sun ;  and 
he  had  a  memento  of  it  in  his  own  body — he  was  lame. 

The  Son  of  God  had  given  Jacob  a  new  name.  The 
Patriarch  could  not  apply  a  new  name  to  God  in  re- 
turn, since  his  goodness  is  every  morning  new,  ever 
alike  fresh  and  lovely.  He  therefore  gave  the  place 
a  new  and  suitable  name,  by  calling  it  Peniel — that  is, 
the  face  of  God.  He  explained  what  he  meant  by  this 
new  name,  by  adding, f  I  have  seen  God  face  to  face ;' 
and  the  effect  of  this  was, '  My  life  is  preserved.'  But 
God  himself  instituted  a  memorial  of  the  event,  which 
shall  last  as  long  as  the  world  stands,  by  causing  it  to 


SERMON  XI.  171 

be  recorded  by  His  servant  Moses,  and  to  be  called -to 
mind  by  the  Prophet  Hosea.  But  what  am  I  saying  ? 
— as  long  as  the  world  stands  ?  To  all  eternity  will 
Jacob  himself  be"  a  memorial  of  this  event ;  and  even 
as  he  was  so  here  by  his  lameness,  so  he  will  be  there 
by  his  glory. 

Peniel.  This  world  possesses  many  uncommonly 
glorious  places.  The  natural  man  finds  those  the  most 
remarkable,  where  Nature  manifests  herself  in  peculiar 
splendor  and  majesty;  where  lofty  mountains  yield 
delightful  prospects,  and  smiling  plains  exhibit  the 
blessings  of  heaven  ;  where  majestic  rivers  roll  along, 
or  the  wide  ocean  expands  itself  like  an  eternity  before 
the  eye,  which  seeks  in  vain  its  limit.  The  scientific 
man  lingers  with  pleasure  on  the  monuments  of  ancient 
and  modern  art;  he  gazes  with  admiration  at  the 
enormous  dome  which  ancient  times  reared  heaven- 
wards, or  is  ravished  with  the  productions  of  the 
painter  or  the  statuary,  which  animate,  as  it  were,  the 
lifeless  canvass  and  the  solid  marble.  He  admires  the 
magnificence  and  beauty  of  princely  palaces,  and  lin- 
gers astonished  at  the  works  of  art.  The  historian 
loses  himself  in  reflection,  when  visiting  the  scene  of 
former  important  events  ;  when  coming  in  sight  of  an- 
cient Rome,  with  all  its  reminiscences ;  or  when  upon 
a  field,  where  memorable  battles  have  been  fought 
Who,  at  this  present  period,  does  not  think  with  admi- 
ration of  Wittenberg,  and  its  royal  chapel ;  of  the 
Wartburg,  of  Zurich  and  Geneva,  and  of  the  names  of 
Luther,  Zuinglius,  and  Calvin,  because  they  remind  us 
of  a  multiplicity  of  events  connected  with  them  ? 


172  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

The  Christian  has  also  his  memorable  spots  and 
places  in  the  world ;  Bethlehem,  Capernaum,  Jerusa- 
lem, Calvary,  and  the  Mount  of  Olives,  are  these  re- 
markable spots.  Formerly  they  were*  personally  visited 
by  the  piously  superstitious  pilgrim,  whilst  his  heart, 
perhaps,  was  far  from  God.  His  bodily  eye  saw  the 
remarkable  places,  whilst  the  eye  of  his  Spirit,  remain- 
ed closed  against  the  wonders  which  there  took  place 
for  the  salvation  of  sinners.  His  feet  wandered  in  what 
is  called  the  Holy  Land,  where  Abraham  once  sojourn- 
ed ;  which  the  Son  of  God  touched  with  his  sacred 
feet,  and  even  with  his  face  ;  which  he  bedewed  with 
his  tears,  his  bloody  sweat,  and  his  atoning  Wood  ;  in 
which  his  lifeless  body  slumbered  three  days,  and 
where  he  again  rose  to  heaveh  from  whence  he  had 
come  down.  There  the  foot  of  many  a  pilgrim  wan- 
ders, whilst  it  is  not  given  him  to  walk  in  the  steps  of 
faithful  Abraham,  and  to  know  the  way  of  peace — 
nay,  whilst  rejecting  the  Son  of  God,  by  thinking  to 
render  his  own  works  effectual  as  an  atonement  for  his 
sins.  These  places  are  Peniels  to  believers,  revelations 
of  the  glory  of  God,  since  his  faith  and  love  find  the 
pastures  of  eternal  life  in  that  which  there  took  place. 
And  has  not  every  Christian  his  particular  Peniels,  in 
which  God  revealed  himself  to  him  in  an  especial  man- 
ner 1 — his  closet,  a  sermon,  a  book,  a  company,  a 
solitary  hour,  and  the  like,  which  continue  ever  memo- 
rable to  him. 

Jacob  called  this  remarkable  place  Peniel — not  as  a 
memorial  of  himself,  nor  of  that  which  he  had  there 
performed  and  accomplished :  but  of  that  which  he  had 


SERMON  XI.  173 

apprehended  and  experienced  of  God,  arid  of  the  gra- 
cious benefit  bestowed  upon  him.  You  see  here  the 
character  of  all  God's  children.  The  world  is  proud, 
and  boasts  that  she  has  done  this  or  accomplished  that ; 
she  desires  to  be  regarded  and  commended  for  it,  and  to 
be  honored  for  zeal,  prudence,  and  ability.  Her  own 
glory  is  her  aim,  and  the  being  denied  it  her  most  sen- 
sible mortification.  Like  the  Pharisee  in  the  Gospel, 
she  ascribes  it  to  herself,  that  she  is  not  this  and  that, 
and  that  she  is  and  does  the  other ;  she  will  not  give 
her  glory  to  another,  and  feels  much  offended  if  any  one 
seeks  to  possess  it  in  her  stead.  Even  when  the  Son 
of  God  says,  '  Without  me  ye  can  do  nothing,'  he  has 
only  contradiction  to  expect  from  her ;  and  when  Paul 
says,  *  Not  of  yourselves,  it  is  the  gift  of  God,'  the  proud 
world  is  insulted  by  it.  The  Lord  knows  how  to  pro- 
duce a  different  effect  in  his  children,  even  though  he 
be  obliged  to  deprive  them  of  their  strength.  He  does 
so,  in  order  that  if  any  one  will  glory,  he  may  glory  in 
his  weakness,  and  in  the  Lord ;  and  that  all  glorying  in 
himself,  may  cease  and  perish. 

Jacob  gives  the  reason  for  the  appellation  of  this 
place  in  the  words,  *  For  I  have  seen  God,  face  to  face.' 
Here  we  find  a  complete  explanation  who  it  was  who 
wrestled  with  Jacob,  dislocated  his  thigh,  gave  him  a 
new  name,  and  blessed  him.  It  was  not  a  mere  angel. 
With  these  Jacob  was  well  acquainted.  During  his 
flight  with  his  brother,  when  sleeping  solitarily  in  a 
wilderness  upon  the  earth,  with  a  stone  under  his  head 
for  a  pillow,  he  saw  in  a  dream  the  angels  of  God  as- 
cending and  descending  upon  a  ladder,  on  the  top  of 


174  THE  WRESTLING    OF  JACOB. 

which  stood  the  Lord  himself;'  on  his  return,  lie  was 
again  met  by  two  hosts  of  angels,  and  he  called  the 
place  where  this  occurred,  Mahanaim.  Here,  however, 
it  was  no  created  angel,  but  God  himself—that  person 
in  the  Divine  Being,  who-  is  called  the  Messiah,  ( the 
sent  of  God,'  Jesus  Christ,  who  in  the  fulness  of  time 
was  really  manifested  in  'flesh  and  blood.  If  we  ask, 
by  what  it  was  that  Jacob  perceived  with  such  certain- 
ty that  it  was  a  Divine  person  with  whom  he  had  to  do, 
we  answer,  He  was  assured  of  it  in  the  same  mysteri- 
ous manner,  .as  the  weeping  Magdalen  at  the  sepulchre 
was  assured  by  the  .single  word,  '  Mary !'  that  it  was 
not  the  gardener,  but  Jesus  himself,  who  was'  convers- 
ing with  her;  and  as  the  disciples  on  the  sea  of  Tibe- 
rias were,  so  perfectly  convinced  it  was  ,the  Lord,  that 
none  of  them  needed  to  ask  him,  •'  Who  art  thou?' 
*  The  Spirit  beareth  witness  -that  the  Spirit'  is  truth' 
(1  John  v.  6.)  The  Christian's  conviction  is  some- 
thing peculiar.  It  is  a  consciousness  that  it  is  really  so, 
a  certain  confidence  which  does  not  and  cannot  doubt ; 
whilst,  on  the  contrary,  a  mere  human  belief  thinks,  it 
may  be  so,  or  may  be  otherwise. 

Jacob  now  said,  '  I  have  seen  God  face  to  face.'  Paul 
calls  God,  '  The  Invisible'  (1  Tim.  i.  17;)  and  in  ch. 
vi.  16,  he  says,  e  God  dwelleth  in  a  light,  which  no  man 
can  approach  unto ;  whom  ho  man  hath  seen,  or  can 
see.'  Still,  we  read  in  Exod.  xxiv.  9,  10,  that  Aaron 
and  his  sons,  and  the  seventy  elders  of  Israel,  were  or- 
dered to  ascend  Mount  Sinai,  and  worship  afar  off.  But 
Moses  alone  drew  near"  to  the  Lord.  And  when  they, 
went  up  (ver.  10)  c  They  saw  the  God  of  Israel ;  and 


SERMON   XI.  175 

there  was  under  his  feet,  as  it  were,  a  paved  work  of  a 
sapphire  stone  (which  is  azure,  with  golden  spots,)  and 
as  it  were  the  body  of  heaven  in  its  clearness."  Isaiah 
also  saw  the  Lord  '  sitting  on  a  throne,  high  and  lifted 
up,  and  his  train  filled  the  temple'  (chap,  vi.)  ;  and  he 
whom  he  saw  was  Jesus  Christ,  as  we  see  from  John 
xii.  41. 

The  people  of  Israel  sinned  by  idolatry,  soon  after 
the  giving  of  the  law.  When  Moses  came  down  from 
the  Mount,  and  saw  and  heard  with  what  tumultuous 
joy  the  people  worshiped  the  golden  calf,  he  dashed  in 
pieces,  in  his  anger,  the  two  tables  of  the  law,  which  he 
had  brought  with  him  from  Mount  Sinai,  and  on  which 
God  himself  had  written  the  commandments ;  he  was  par- 
ticularly irritated  against  his  brother  Aaron,  who  made 
the  calf ;  but  to  the  people  he  said,  '  Ye  have  sinned  a 
great  sin  ;  and  now  I  will  go  up  unto  the  Lord,  perad- 
venture  I  shall  make  an  atonement  for  your  sin,  he  as- 
rendrd  the  Mount,  and  said,  '  OJx)rd, this  people  liave 
sinned  a  great  sin;  yet  now,  forgixe  their  sin;  but  if 
not,  blot  me,  I  pray  thee,  out  of  thy  book,  which  thou 
has  written.'  *  What  V  answered  the  Lord,  whoever 
hath  sinned  against  me,  him  will  I  blot  out  of  my  book. 
Lead  the  people  unto  the  place,  of  which  I  have  spoken 
unto  thee  ;  behold  mine  angel  shall  go  before  thr 
will  not  go  up  in  the  midst  of  thee ;  for  thou  art  a  stiff- 
necked  people,  lest  I  consume  thee  in  the  way.'  This 
did  not  please  Moses,  and  he  humbly  interceded  once 
more ;  and  as  God  for  some  time  had  only  called  the 
children  of  Israel  '  the  people,'  Moses  said,  *  consider 
that  this  nation  is  thy  people  ;'  and  the  Lord  then  de- 


176  THE  WRESTLING  OF   JACOB. 

clared,  saying,  *  My  presence  shall  go  with  thee,  and 
I  will  give  thee  rest.'  Moses  eagerly  caught  at  this, 
and  said,  ( If  thy  presence  go  not  with  me,  carry  us  not 
up  hence.  For  wherein  shall  it  be  known  that  I  and 
thy  people  have  found  favor  in  thy  sight,  except  thou 
goest  with  us  ?  And  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  I  will 
do  this  thing  al§o  that  thou  hast  spoken,  for  thou  hast 
found  grace  in  my  sight,  and  I  know  thee  by  name.' 
This  emboldened  Moses  so  much,  that  he  said,' '  I  be- 
seech thee,  shew  me  thy  glory  V  The  Lord  answered, 
*  I  will  make  all  my  goodness  pass  before  thee,  and  I 
will  proclaim  the  name  of  the  Lord  before  thee  ;  and  I 
will  be  gracious  to  whom  I  will  be  gracious,  and  I  will 
shew  mercy  on  whom  I  will  shew  mercy.  But  thou 
canst  not  see  my  face ;  for  there  shall  no  man  see  me  • 
and  live.  But  thou  shalt  see  my  back-parts.'  And 
thus  Moses  beheld  the  glory  of  the  Lord  from  behind, 
and  the  face  of  Moses  shone  in  consequence,  so  that  the 
children  of  Israel  could  not  look  at  him  without  a  veil. 

Jacob  also  said ,,5 1  have  seen  God  face  to  face.'  But 
in  reality  he  only  saw  the  human  form  which  the  Lord 
had  assumed  for  a  season.  In  the  fulness  of  time,  he 
took  upon  him  our  nature,  in  personal  union  with  his 
Divine.  The  infinite  surrounded  himself  with  bounds, 
and  the  invisible  became  visible — God  became  man. 
Without  controversy,  great  is  the  mystery.  With  what 
rapture  shall  all  his  elect  eventually  behold  him,  be 
like  him,  and  see  him  as  he  is  !  i  Blessed  are  the  pure 
in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God.' 

But  even  here  below  there  is  a  seeing  God  in  grace, 
in  a  spiritual  manner,  and  superior  to  sense. 


SERMON    XI.  177 

The  earth,  the  sky  with  its  splendid  and  majestic 
the  beauty  of  the  spring,  the  blossoming  trees, 
tht-  waving  corn-fields,  the  rolling  of  the  thunder  in  the 
clouds,  the  genial  dew — all  remind  us  of  an  overruling 
providence.  But  Job  at  length  says,  after  the  Lord  had 
taught  him  from  a  whirlwind,  i  I  formerly  heard  thee 
with  the  hearing  of  the  ear ;  but  now  mine  eye  seeth 
thee  ;'  and  the  consequence  was,  *  Therefore  I  abhor 
myself,  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes.'  Hence  the 
knowledge  that  Job  obtained  after  his  affliction  was 
more  profound  and  perfect  than  before ;  even  as  we 
receive  a  much  clearer  idea  of  a  thing,  which  we  see 
with  our  eyes,  than  by  merely  hearing  of  it. 

Such  was  also,  the  case  with  Jacob.  Distinguished 
light  had  risen  upon  him  by  means  of  this  conflict,  such 
as  he  had  never  possessed  before.  He  became  much 
more  intimately  acquainted  with  his  God  than  previous- 
ly ;  even  as  when  we  see  the  face  of  some  one  whom 
we  had  only  known  before  from  report.  Now  if  it  be 
eternal  life  to  know  the  .true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ 
whom  ho  hath  sent  ;  if  life  consist  in  righteousness, 
peace,  and  joy,  he  had  evidently  increased  in  all  these 
in  a  remarkable  manner ;  Christ  in  the  struggle,  had 
become  more  perfectly  formed  within  him,  although 
painful  distress  had  preceded  it.  '  In  thy  light  we  see 
light,'  says  David,  and  prays :  t  Open  thou  mine  eyes, 
that  I  may  behold  wondrous  things  out  of  thy  law.' 
He  also  confesses  that  the  law  of  the  Lord  is  perfect, 
rejoicing  the  heart,  and  making  wise  the  simple.  But 
Peter  says,  '  Grow  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  of 
our  Lord  and  Savior  Jesus  Christ'  Now  this  is  not 
16 


178  THE  WRESTLING  OF  JACOB. 

accomplished  by  reflection,  studying  and  reading ;  by 
these  the  head  may  indeed  be  filled  with  orthodox 
thoughts  and  ideas  ;  but  this,  as  Paul  says,  is  only  '  the 
form  of  sound  words.'  It  is  like  undigested  food,  which 
may  indeed  puff  up,  but  cannot  strengthen  or  nourish. 
Hence  the  same  apostle  says,  *  Knowledge  puffeth  up, 
but  love  edifieth.'  The  instruction  which  Jesus  imparts, 
is  given  us  by  the  Holy  Spirit  on  the  path  of  experi- 
ence, by  means  of  a  variety  of  providential  dispensa- 
tions, afflictions,  consolations,  impartations  and  priva- 
tions, disturbance  and  peace,  strength  and  weakness. 
Thus  he  teaches  sinners  in  the  way,  he  guides  the  meek 
aright,  and  teacheth  the  humble  his  way.  It  is  thus 
that  he  instructs  them  respecting  sin  and  grace,  until 
with  Job  they  are  able  to  renounce  themselves  entirely, 
and  give  God  all  the  glory ;  the  path  which  was  rug- 
ged before,  then  becomes  straight  and  even. 

Jacob  then  also  mentions  the  effect  of  this  seeing 
God,  and  adds, '  My  life  is  preserved.' 

He  was  delivered.  His  former  state  was  an  oppres- 
sive one — fightings  without,  and  fears  within.  Esau 
with  his  four  hundred  men  terrified  him.  His  faith  was 
weak ;  his  courage  small ;  joy  had  departed  from  his 
soul,  and  clouds  of  sorrow  darkened  his  mind,  which 
vented  themselves  in  tears.  That  night  had  been  the 
most  painful  and  distressing  one  he  had  ever  spent ; 
he  saw  nothing  but  death  before  him,  which  Esau  had 
sworn  concerning  him,  and  he  knew  that  he  was  not 
to  be  trifled  with.  It  seemed  as  if  God  himself  had 
given  him  over  unto  death,  when  he  commanded  him 
to  return  out  of  Mesopotamia.  He  had  recourse  by 


SERMON  IV.  179 

prayor  to  that  God,  who  had  hitherto  blessed  and  pro- 
tected him,  in  order  to  pour  out  his  fears  and  his  distress 
before  him,  and  to  entreat  his  deliverance.  He  knew 
not  by  what  means  he  would  help  him.  But  what  be- 
fel  him  during  prayer  ?  We  know  already.  A  man 
struggled  with  him  in  such  a  manner  as  to  dislocate  his 
thigh. 

Thus  the  Lord  exercises  his  people  by  a  variety  of 
afflictions ;  not  unfrequently  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
cause  them  to  think  they  must  despair  and  perish,  and 
really  would  do  so,  did  not  the  Lord  sustain  them,  in  a 
faithful  and  confident  manner,  although  imperceptible 
to  themselves ;  nay,  to  say  the  truth,  they  really  do  pe- 
rish and  despair — that  is,  with  reference  to  themselves ; 
so  that,  on  their  part,  they  are  compelled  to  exclaim, 
'  We  perish !'  and  are  deprived  of  the  power  to  believe, 
and  hope ;  even  as  Jacob  was  not  only  stripped  of  the 
ability  to  defend  himself,  but  also  even  to  flee.  Such 
situations  are,  indeed,  no  pastime ;  as  Jacob  also  found 
it.  But  the  end  of  the  ways  of  God  is  better  than  their 
beginning  ;  exaltation  follows  humiliation,  and  life  fol- 
lows death. 

Thus  it  proved  also  in  Jacob's  case.  '  My  life  is 
preserved,'  said  he.  He  now  felt  very  different  He 
was  like  the  eagle,  who  renews  his  youth,  whose  fea- 
thers grow  again,  so  that  he  can  again  elevate  himself 
upon  his  pinions  and  soar  aloft  to  hover  in  the  rays  of 
the  sun.  His  confidence  in  God  was  quickened,  and  his 
whole  soul  was  tranquilized  so  that  he  could  boldly 
look  around  him.  Fear  had  departed,  and  he  was  ena- 
bled confidently  to  appear  before  Esau.  He  had  all, 
and  abounded. 


180  THE    WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

Such  a  pleasing  reverse  is  promised  in  numberless 
passages ;  '  I  will  see  you  again,  and  your  heart  shall 
rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  man  taketh  from  you ;'  '  I  will 
comfort  thee  as  a  mother  comforteth  her  child ;'  '  I  will 
strengthen  thee  ;  yea,  I  will  help  thee ;  yea,  I  will  uphold 
thee  with  the  right  hand  of  my  righteousness ;'  and  many 
more  such  promises.  They  are  also  faithfully  fulfilled  in 
all  those  whom  the  Lord  humbles ;  and  hence,  it  is  said, 
c  Humble  yourselves  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God,  that 
he  may  exalt  you  in  due  time.'  My  heart  rejoices  at  thy 
willingness  to  help.  I  will  praise  the  Lord  for  his  mer- 
cies towards  me.  He  hath  preserved  my  soul  from 
death,  my  eyes  from  tears,  and  my  feet  from  falling. 
Bless  the  Lotd,  O  my  soul !  and  all  that  is  within  me, 
bless  His  holy  name !  Bless  the  Lord,  and  forget  not 
all  his  benefits !'  Thus  the  same  David  rejoiced,  who 
had  uttered  so  many  complaints.  Thus,  many  a  child 
of  God  is  able  to  rejoice ;  and  what  exultation,  and 
blessing,  and  praise  will  there  be,  when  they  shall  ar- 
rive in  heaven  out  of  all  their  tribulation,  after  having 
washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb ! 

But  what  praise  to  the  glory  of  Divine  grace  is  ex- 
cited, even  here  below,  in  those  favored  souls  who  can 
exult  with  David,  and  say,  '  The  Lord  hath  delivered 
me  from  all  my  fears;'  who  possess  peace  in  the  Lord 
in  an  uniform  and  permanent  manner,  although  in  the 
world  they  may  have  tribulation ;  and  who  have  at- 
tained the  great  grace  of  being  able  to  rejoice  in  the 
Lord  always,  and  to  exclaim  in  the  spirit  of  adoption,, 
'  Abba,  Father !'  0  happy  souls,  who  are  redeemed 


SERMON  XI.  181 

from  the  servile  spirit  of  bondage,  delivered  from  the 
fear  of  death,  made  free  by  the  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life 
in  Christ  Jesus,  from  the  law  of  sin ;  and  who  serve 
God,  not  according  to  the  letter,  but  in  the  Spirit. 
These  are  the  glorious,  results  of  beholding  the  glory  of 
God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  by  the  Holy  Spirit. 

If  we  wish  to  enter  into  the  full  meaning  of  Jacob's 
expression,  we  must  remember  that  he  really  expressed 
himself  in  his  language  as  follows: — "  I  am  preserved, 
and  shall  be  preserved ;"  so  that  he  was  animated  by  a 
vigorous  confidence  with  respect  to  the  future.  The 
Lord  had  said  to  him,  *  Thou  hast  had  power ;'  or  more 
correctly  speaking,  '  Thou  wilt  be  enabled  to  prevail.' 
Now,  here  is  the  echo  of  faith :  "  I  am  preserved,  and 
shall  be  preserved  !  although  new  tribulations  may  be- 
fall  me,  according  to  the  will  of  God ;  yet,  I  shall  be 
preserved,  and  at  length  he  will  deliver  me  from  all 
evil,  and  bring  me  to  his  glorious  kingdom ;  of  this  I 
am  assured,  for  I  know  in  whom  I  have  believed.' 

God  performs  what  he  promises.  He  faithfully  help- 
ed Jacob  through  everything,  although  he  had  to  ex- 
perience many  grievous  trials ;  one  of  the  most  painful 
of  which  was,  the  supposed  death  of  his  favorite  son, 
Joseph,  whom  he  was  told  a  wild  beast  had  devoured, 
on  his  being  sent  out  by  him ;  respecting  which  he 
doubtless  reproached  himself  bitterly,  as  having  com- 
mitted a  great  piece  of  thoughtlessness,  and  on  whose 
account  he  mourned  long,  until  this  also  cleared  itself 
up  in  an  unexpected  and  glorious  manner.  Whether 
Jacob,  under  all  these  circumstances,  was  able  with  the 
same  serenity  to  say,  '  I  shall  be  preserved,'  I  know  not. 
16* 


182  THE   WRESTLING   OF   JACOB. 

From  his  long  mourning  over  Joseph,  and  his  declara- 
tion, '  that  if  mischief  befell  Benjamin  by  the  way,  then 
shall  ye  bring  down  my  grey  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the 
grave,'  the  contrary  may  be  inferred ;  as  also  from  his 
exaggerated  statements  to  his  sons,  who  wished  to  take 
Benjamin  with  them  into  Egypt.  £  Me  ye  have  be- 
reaved of  my  children/  said  he ;  ( Joseph  is  not,  and 
Simeon  is  not,  and  ye  will  take  Benjamin  away ;  all 
these  things  are  against  me.'  And  when  his  sons,  on 
a  previous  occasion,  had  committed  the  shameful  mur- 
der of  the  Shechemites,  he  was  again  afraid,  and  said, 
6 1  being  few  in  number,  they  will  -gather  themselves  to- 
gether against  me,  and  slay  me,  and  I  shall  be  destroy- 
ed, and  mine  house.'  Where  is  now  thy  faith  ?  it 
might  be  asked.  But  this  also  tends  much  to  the  glory 
of  God,  and  to  prove  that  he  is  alone  good,  and  that 
we  without  him  can  do  nothing.  In  the  joy  of  his 
heart,  and  in  the  enjoyment,  of  Divine  gifts,  the  man 
probably  imagines  that  his  mountain  stands  so  strong, 
that  he  will  never  be  moved.  And  why  does  he  sup- 
pose so  ?  Because  he  secretly  thinks  that  he  himself 
has  become  something,  and  imagines  he  is  in  possession 
of  the  faith  &c.,  for  which  he  has  so  long  supplicated. 
But  it  may  still  be  the  case  with  him,  that  like  Jacob 
he  looks  at  himself,  and  is  afraid  lest  his  powerful  foes 
should  at  length  destroy  him  and  his  whole  house.  O 
how  much  has  God  to  do  with  us,  in  order  to  bring  us 
into  true  poverty  of  spirit,  and  to  keep  us  in  it !  We 
are  invariably  desirous  of  becoming  something  in  our- 
selves— of  growing,  being  strong,  and  able  in  ourselves. 
Hence  the  Lord  is  continually  obliged  to  convince  us  of 


SERMON  XI.  183 

our  poverty  and  misery ;  yet  all  this  would  avail  noth- 
ing, if  he  did  not  himself  enable  some  souls  to  ascribe 
to  him  the  kingdom,  the  power,  and  the  glory ;  and  to 
regard  themselves  in  truth  and  reality  as  nothing,  even 
in  the  possession  of  abundance  of  gifts ;  and  at  the  same 
time  to  believe  in  reality  and  with  serenity,  and  to  be 
satisfied  that  in  Christ  dwells  all  the  fulness  of  the  God- 
head bodily.  It  is  true  indeed,  that  no  one  can  receive 
anything,  or  retain  it,  except  it  be  given  him  from  above. 

The  sun  now  rose.  This  splendid  spectacle  in  nature 
was  also  an  image  of  that  which  had  passed  in  the 
soul  of  the  Patriarch.  The  night  had  disappeared.  A 
lovely  morning  dawned.  It  rose  upon  him.  The  Sun 
of  Righteousness  and  the  Day-spring  from  on  high,  was 
at  length  to  arise  upon  them  that  sat  in  darkness  and 
the  shadow  of  death,  to  guide  their  feet  into  the  way  of 
peace.  0  may  this  Sun  rise  ;  may  it  rise  upon  us  with 
its  healing  beams ;  may  it  rise  upon  all  who  call 
themselves  Christians — upon  the  posterity  of  Israel — 
upon  the  whole  world ! 

And  Jacob  halted  upon  his  thigh.  Every  step  re- 
minded him  of  the  great  mercy  of  the  Lord,  and  at  the 
same  time  of  his  own  nothingness.  Every  step  exalted 
and  humbled  him.  And  when  others  heard  his  name 
and  saw  his  lameness,  they  would  also  be  reminded  that 
the  Lord  condescends  more  graciously  to  his  people, 
than  it  might  be  supposed.  To  him  be  glory  for  ever. 
Amen. 


SOLOMON  AND  SHULAMITE. 

SERMONS 

ON  THE  BOOK  OF  CANTICLES. 


SOLOMON   AND   SHULAMITE. 


SERMON   I. 

SOLOMON'S  SONG  in.  1 — 4. 

By  night  on  my  bed  I  sought  him  whom  my  soul  loveth :  1 
sought  him,  but  I  found  him  not.  I  will  rise  now,  and  go 
about  the  city  ;  in  the  streets  and  in  the  broad  ways,  } 
n-itl  seek  him  whom  my  soul  loveth :  I  sought  linn,  but  1 
found  him  not.  The  watchmen  that  go  about  the  city  found 
me  :  to  whom  I  said,  Saw  ye  him  whom  my  soul  loveth  ?  It 
was  but  a  little  that  I  passed  from  them,  but  I  found  him 
H'hom  my  soul  loveth  :  I  held  him  and  would  not  let  him  go, 
until  I  had  brought  him  into  my  mother's  house,  and  into  the 
chamber  of  her  that  conceived  me. 

THE  Bride,  the  Church  of  the  Lord,  or  the  individual 
believing  Soul,  opens  to  us  in  the  text  the  treasury  of 
her  spiritual  experience,  and  displays  to  us  glimpses  of 
her  inward  conflicts,  to  which  some  amongst  us  will, 
doubtless,  find  a  key  in  their  own  Christian  experience. 
O  how  deep  and  important  the  truth  unfolded  to  our 
view  in  the  narration  of  the  Bride !  That  which  binds 
us  to  Christ  should  not  only  be  the  sweet  savor  of  his 
benefits,  but,  moreover,  the  painful  sense  of  our  poverty 


188         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

and  misery.  May  our  meditations  this  day  lead  us  to  a 
deeper  insight  into  the  meaning  of  this  great  truth. 
With  continual  reference  to  ourselves,  let  us  consider 
the  Bride  in  the  fourfold  state  in  which  she  appears 
to  us  in  the  text.  . 

I.  How  she  revels  in  spiritual  abundance. 
II.  How  she  loseth  what  she  had,  and  languishes  in 
banishment. 

III.  How  she  is  engaged  in  a  fruitless  search. 

IV.  How  she  findeth,  never  to  lose  again. 

I. — {  By  night  on  my  bed  I  sought  him.'  Sought 
whom  ?  '  Him  whom  my  soul  loveth — Christ,  the  fair- 
est of  the  sons  of  men ;  Christ,  the  heavenly  Bride- 
groom.' Him  the  complaining  soul  had  had  upon  her 
couch.  Delightful  figure,  by  which  the  entire  blessed- 
ness of  her  former  state  is  indicated  !  She  had  had  the 
Lord  upon  her  couch.  To  have  the  Lord  upon  our 
couch,  what  else  can  it  mean,  than  to  dwell  with  him 
and  in  him,  to  have  the  most  lively  consciousness  of  his 
blissful  presence,  to  enjoy  his  favor,  to  be  filled  with 
the  most  devout  and  ardent  feelings  of  love  and  tender- 
ness towards  him,  and  with  the  purest  joy  and  delight 
in  the  contemplation  of  his  person,  his  acts  and  words ! 
To  have  the  Lord  upon  our  couch,  what  is  it,  but  to 
possess  the  assurance  of  his  attachment  and  love,  and 
an  inward  joyful  conviction  of  our  interest  in  his  pro- 
mises and  declarations;  to  be  animated  with  devout 
emotions,  and  with  lively  impulse  to  praise  and  magni- 
fy him,  to  rejoice,  and  to  exult  in  him. 

Let  us  look  back  upon  the  declarations  of  the  Bride  in 


SERMON  I.  189 

the  former  verses  of  her  song.  When  she  exultingly 
declared,  '  The  savor  of  thy  ointments  is  delightful ; 
thy  name  is  as  ointment  poured  forth.'  When  she  ex- 
rlainis,  *  My  beloved  is  -to  me  as  a  cluster  of  carnphire 
in  the  vineyards  of  En-gedi.  Behold  thou  art  fair,  my 
love ;  behold  thou  art  fair.  As  the  apple-tree  among 
the  trees  of  the  wood,  so  is  my  beloved  among  the  sons. 
I  sat  down  under  his  shadow  with  great  delight,  and 
his  fruit  was  sweet  to  my  taste.  He  brought  me  to  the 
banqueting-house,  and  his  banner  over  me  was  love. 
Stay  me  with  thy  flagons,  comfort  me  with  apples ;  for 
I  am  sick  of  love.  My  beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am  his ; 
he  feedeth  among  the  lilies.'  As  she  thus  sang  and  re- 
joiced, and  when  there  was  melody  in  her  heart,  then 
she  had  him  whom  her  soul  loved,  upon  her  couch. 

This  sweet  and  delightful  state,  in  which  we  may  be 
said  to  have  the  Lord  upon  our  couch,  is  generally  ex- 
perienced in  the  early  period  of  conversion.  Under  the 
almighty  influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  the  delusions 
that  had  obscured  the  barrenness  of  our  heart  and  life, 
gradually  melt  away  like  snow.  It  rends  the  veil  of 
self-deception ;  and,  before  we  are  aware,  our  entire 
destitution  of  peace  and  joy  is  presented  to  our  view, 
though  we  had.  till  then  deemed  ourselves  full  and  in 
need  of  nothing.  We  feel  voids  that  must  be  filled  up, 
and  spiritual  wants  that  must  be  satisfied.  We  find  it 
is  not  with  us  as  it  should  be,  and  we  become  deeply 
impressed  with  the  necessity  of  a  change.  Words  and 
actions,  sentiments  and  pursuits,  which  have  hitherto 
appeared  correct  and  good,  begin  to  disturb  us  ;  and  we 
feel  an  inward  gnawing,  like  the  worm  that  dieth  not, 
17 


190         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

and  the  fire  that  is  not  quenched.  Then  we  run  to  and 
fro  to  seek  a  cure,  and  how  we  may  still  the  raging 
thirst  of  the  soul.  But  this  world  is  not  Gilead  ;  and 
its  reliefs,  counsels,  and  consolations  are  broken  cisterns, 
that  can  hold  no  water.  The  stronger  this  feeling  be- 
comes the  greater  our  depression  and  grief,  till  at  length 
there  is  an  end  of  all  joy,  the  sluices  of  sorrow  are 
opened,  and  laughing  is  turned  into  bitter  weeping. 
The  Spirit  breathes  upon  the  soul ;  the  icy  bands  of  na- 
tural pride  and  impenitence  begin  to  fall  asunder,  and 
the  sinner  beholds  his  misery,  divested  of  every  cover- 
ing. Where  now  shall  he  look  for  help?  Behold 
even  here  the  work  of  grace ;  a  Hand  in  the  cloud 
which  guides  securely,  and  never  leads  astray.  He 
comes  to  Jesus,  sighs  and  implores  for  mercy  :  and  hav- 
ing received  an  answer  in  his  soul,  that  sweet  season 
commences,  when,  like  the  Bride,  he  has  the  Lord  upon 
his  couch.  How  delightful  his  sensations  !  What  a 
life  compared  with  the  poor  miserable  existence  afford- 
ed by  the  world !  Let  us  call  to  mind  our  own  expe- 
rience, when  our  spiritual  affections  possessed  their 
early  freshness.  We  could  then,  like  children,  shed 
tears  of  joyful  emotion,  as  often  as  we  perused  the. 
Scriptures,  or  reflected  on  the  faithfulness  of  the  Lord, 
on  his  word  and  history.  How  great  was  then  our  joy, 
when  we  heard  his  name  preached,  and  his  people  bear 
testimony  to  his  faithfulness  1  With  what  ardor  we 
were  filled  when  his  praises  were  sung  ;  with  what  fer- 
vor we  prayed,  with  what  necessity,  with  what  desire 
and  love !  How  strongly  were  we  then  incited  to 
speak  of  him,  and  thought  to  convert  the  world  at 


RMON  I.  191 

once,  and  to  proclaim  his  name  from  the  house  tops, 
and  in  the  streets!  Then  we  gloried  in  difficulties, 
that  we  might  overcome  them  in  the  strength  of  the 
Lord  ;  and  we  sought  for  living  stones,  wherewith 
lily  to  erect  a  temple  to  our  God.  How  incompre- 
hensible it  appeared  to  us,  that  other  Christians  were  so 
.still,  so  calm  and  composed;  that  they  did  not  partici- 
pate in  the  fulness  of  our  joy,  or  join  in  our  triumphal 
song ;  that  they  even  uttered  sighs  and  complaints, 
while  we  imagined  that  with  sighing  and  complaining 
wr  had  for  ever  done !  Do  you  still  recollect  this  time  ? 
Then,  in  this  sense,  in  which  the  Bride  in  the  text 
meant  it,  we  had  the  Lord  upon  our  couch. 

This  state  was  sweet  and  blessed  ;  but  the  welfare 
of  our  souls  required  that  it  should  not  be  perpetual. 
The  Lord  in  his  own  time  had  to  lead  us  forth  from  this 
Goshen  of  spiritual  pleasures,  from  this  luxurious  pas- 
ture of  mental  enjoyment.  For  did  we  not  surely  be- 
gin to  be  presumptuous,  considering  ourselves  as  great 
saints,  and  distinguished  from  others,  on  account  of  our 
blissful  serenity  of  soul  ?  Had  we  not  begun,  whilr 
rejoicing  in  our  wealth,  to  be  ashamed  of  the  beggar's 
staff;  and  had  not  the  sense  of  need  abated,  which  had 
compelled  us  to  knock  at  the  door  of  mercy,  and  to 
prostrate  ourselves  at  the  rich  man's  gate,  with  the  poor 
and  destitute  ?  Was  it  not  in  reality  far  more  our  own 
piety  and  fulness  of  delight,  on  which  we  built  and  rest- 
ed, and  for  which  we  hoped  to  escape  condemnation, 
than  Christ  and  his  merits?  Were  we  not  already 
seeking  the  foundation  of  our  future  bliss  in  ourselves, 
instead  of  witlwut  ourselves,  in  Christ  crucified  ?  And 


192         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

did  we  not  love  the  bread  with  which  Christ  fed  us,  and 
the  wine  which  he  gave  us  to  drink,  much  more  than 
himself  ?  We  loved  and  clung  to  him,  it  is  true — but 
with  what  sort  of  love  ?  Was  it  the  intense,  holy, 
stedfast  love,  which  is  grounded  on  the  consciousness 
that  Christ  is  our  Surety,  who  hath  redeemed  our  souls 
from  hell,  and  rescued  us  from  consuming  fire  ?  Was 
it  a  love  based  on  the  humiliating  thought :  I  am  not 
worthy  that  the  sun  should  shine  upon  me,  yet  Christ 
has  descended  from.heaven  for  my  sake,  to  save  my  soul 
from  hell,  and  to  purchase  it  with  his  own  life  ?  Was 
it  that  attachment  and  clinging  to  him  which  spring 
from  the  most  lively  perception  of  our  entire  destitu- 
tion, nothingness,  and  impotency,  and  from  the  convic- 
tion that  it  is  on  the  grace  of  Christ  alone  we  exist 
every  moment  ?  Oh  no,  so  far  our  glance  did  not  ex- 
tend, neither  into  the  abyss  of  our  own  ruin,  nor  into 
the  depths  of  the  merits  of  Christ.  We  had  merely 
skimmed  the  pool  of  our  misery,  and  the  unfathomable 
ocean  of  the  Redeemer's  love  and  mercy.  Our  love  to 
him  could,  therefore,  be  only  superficial.  Single  sins 
had,  indeed,  presented  themselves  to  our  view,  but  not 
yet  our  entire  sinfulness;  this  and  that  transgression,  but 
not  the  entire  desolation  and  corruption  of  our  heart ; 
one  deformity  and  another,  but  not  the  pernicious  sap 
which  pervades  us,  not  the  whole  image  of  Belial  that 
we  bear  within  us.  In  one  word  :  we  had  adhered  to 
Christ  more  for  the  sweet  savor  of  his  gifts,  than  from 
a  sense  of  our  misery,  and  of  His  being  indispensable 
to  our  salvation.  This  wTas  a  lax  and  weak  band,  a  love 
which  every  wind  of  temptation  might  destroy — -not 


SERMON    I.  193 

an  ardent  glow,  strong  as  death,  and  unchangeable  as 
hell — which  many  waters  cannot  quench. 

II. — But  that  we  may  attain  unto  that  perfect  state, 
in  which  we  cling  to  Christ,  no  longer  for  the  mere 
pleasure  we  enjoy  in  his  presence,  but  because  of  the 
misery  we  experience  in  ourselves ;  no  longer  for  the 
apples  and  flowers  with  which  he  has  regaled  us,  but  be- 
he  is  necessary  to  our  eternal  salvation ;  not  for  the 
pleasurable  feelings  and  delightful  hours  enjoyed  in  his 
kingdom,  but  because  apart  from  him  we  feel  ourselves 
abandoned  to  the  wrath  and  fiery  indignation  of  God, 
and  to  all  the  powers  of  darkness.  That  our  attitude 
may  be  that  of  exclusive  dependence  upon  him;  that 
\\r  may  hang  upon  his  neck  and  say,  'Lord  Jesus,  do 
with  me  what  thou  wilt,  refresh  me  or  not,  fill  my  heart 
with  manna,  or  let  me  suffer  want — to  thee  I  cling  ; 
for  where  thou  art  not,  I  shall  perish  in  my  misery  ;  for 
out  of  thee  all  is  darkness,  death,  and  hell,' — that  this 
may  be  our  state,  the  Lord  generally  proceeds  with  us, 
as  he  did  with  the  Bride.  In  his  own  time  he  changes 
the  sunshine  in  our  souls  into  the  gloom  of  night,  and 
withdraws  from  us  all  consolation.  *  By  night  upon  my 
couch  I  sought  him  whom  my  soul  loveth,'  says  the 
Bride ;  '  I  sought  him  but  I  found  him  not.'  It  had  be- 
come night  with  her,  and  she  was  forced  to  complain, 
1 1  have  lost  the  Lord.' 

It  has  become  night  in  us,  in  the  sense  intended  by 
the  Bride,  when  the  consciousness  of  the  blissful  pre- 
sence of  the  Lord  has  departed  from  us,  and  the  soul  no 
longer  retains  any  perception  of  the  felicity  enjoyed  at 
17* 


194        SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

his  right  hand.  It  is  become  night  when  the  flow  of 
holy  feeling  and  emotion  is  dried  up,  and  our  joy  in  the 
Lord  and  all  that  is  his.,  has  expired  within  us.  It  is 
night  when  the  word  that  we  read  no  longer  affects  us, 
when  its  promises  leave  the  soul  cold  and  insensible ; 
when  the  sermons  we  hear  afford  no  enjoyment,  and 
the  worship  of  God,  once  our  most  joyous  employment, 
has  become  a  burden ;  when  we  are  no  longer  impell- 
ed to  pour  forth  our  souls  in  prayer  and  praise,  and 
when  the  most  sacred  engagements  do  not  cause  the 
heart  to  overflow  with  holy  joy  and  delightful  emotion. 
Then  it  is  become  night !  0  deplorable  state !  When 
the  spikenard  of  our  spiritual  knowledge  has  lost  its 
fragrance ;  when  the  grapes  on  the  Gospel- vine  yield 
for  us  no  juice,  and  the  flowers  no  perfume ;  when  our 
hearts  are  become  barren,  and  our  spiritual  tongue 
cleaves  to  the  roof  of  our  mouth.  Then  we  are  full  of 
complaint  and  lamentation;  we  are  cast  down  and 
know  neither  counsel  nor  consolation ;  for  the  prop  on 
which  we  had  leaned  was  not  the  merit  of  Christ,  but 
our  own  feelings ;  and  this  prop  is  now  broken.  The 
foundation,  on  which  the  superstructure  of  our  hopes 
had  been  erected,  was  not  the  beam  of  the  cross,  but  the 
loose  ground  of  our  own  piety  and  lively  sensations ; 
we  had  been  accustomed  to  look  more  to  ourselves  than 
to  Christ ;  our  confidence  had  been  our  love  to  the  Lord, 
not  his  love  to  us.  Therefore  a  cloud  no  sooner  dims 
the  bright  glow  of  our  sensations  and  feelings,  than  we 
find  ourselves  deprived  of  the  consolations  of  Christ, 
and.  are  forced  to  complain,  with  the  Bride  :  We  have . 
lost  the  Lord. 


SERMON  I.  195 

III. — We  will  now  examine  what  further  occurs  in 
tiii-  state  of  destitution  and  banishment,  when  the  luxu- 
riant spring-time  of  our  soul  is  changed  into  the  chill  of 
winter,  and  the  melody  within  us  has  ceased  ;  when  the 
heart,  once  so  animated,  sensitive,  and  happy,  has  be- 
come a  barren  sand.  We  see  it  in  the  Bride.  When 
it  had  become  night  in  her,  she  resolved  :  *  I  will  arise 
and  seek  him  whom  my  soul  loveth.'  '  Yes,  I  will !  I 
will  !'  By  this  we  perceive  how  little  she  knows  her- 
self. I  will  arise,  will  restore  myself,  will  take  pos- 
session of  the  paradise  I  have  lost,  and  of  my  former 
blissful  state.  I  will  again  warm  and  animate  my  heart, 
will  again  acquire  my  former  joyfulness  and  my  former 
delight  in  prayer  and  praise.  Yes,  what  is  there  that 
she  will  not  do  ?  WTell,  let  her  resolve,  let  her  strive. 
On  the  path  she  has  entered  she  will  make  wonderfully 
wholesome  discoveries.  It  is  a  path  of  sorrow,  but  its 
end  is  joy  and  peace. 

*  I  will  arise.5  Whither  will  she  go  1  'I  will  go 
about  the  city,  in  the  streets,  and  in  the  broad  ways.  I 
will  seek  him  whom  my  soul  loveth.'  In  the  city  ?  yes, 
in  the  spiritual  Jerusalem  ;  in  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  in 
the  congregation  of  the  faithful ;  there  she  hopes  to  re- 
gain the  exquisite  felicity  she  has  lost.  But  alas  !  we 
hear  her  complain,  *  I  sought  but  found  him  not.'  What 
the  Bride  here  confesses,  have  we  not  all  here  expe- 
rienced 1  When  that  night  overshadowed  us,  we  also 
imagined  we  could  ourselves  rekindle  joy  in  the  soul, 
again  render  our  barren  hearts  fruitful.  We  also  could 
exclaim  :  '  I  will !  I  will !'  as  if  all  had  been  within  our 
grasp.  Then  we  also  arose,  and  went  about  the  streets 


196         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

of  Jerusalem ;  tried  every  means,  and  hoped  to  force 
the  waters  of  spiritual  consolation  again  to  flow ;  but 
ah, '  I  sought,  but  found  him  not.' 

We  had  resource  to  heart-stirring,  beautifully  spirit- 
ual books,  which  we  allowed  to  preach  to  us,  in  the 
hope  thus  to  obtain  relief,  and  to  re-animate  our  stag- 
nant feelings.  But,  alas !  the  books  seem  stale  and 
insipid,  and  left  us  as  we  were,  dull  and  cheerless.  We 
sought,  but  found  not.  We  hastened  to  the  assemblies 
of  the  saints,  where  the  love  of  Christ  was  joyfully  pro- 
claimed ;  where  his  praises  resounded  in  spiritual  songs, 
and  fervent  prayers  ascended  to  heaven  ;  here  we  ex- 
pected a  joyful  spirit  would  again  possess  us,  that  our 
hearts  would  melt,  and  our  tongues  be  loosened.  But 
we  sought  and  found  not.  While  the  eloquence  of 
others  flowed  like  living  waters,  and  their  prayers  were 
ardent,  we  were  speechless,  or  uttered  empty  words ; 
they  spread  the  wings  of  devotion,  and  soared  on  high  ; 
we  too  essayed  to  rise,  but  we  had  no  wings  to  spread. 
We  forced  ourselves  to  sing,  but  the  song  died  upon  our 
lips,  unresponded  by  our  hearts.  We  sought,  but  found 
not.  We  eagerly  thronged  to  whatever  was  solemn  and 
sublime,  hoping  that  there  our  icy  hearts  would  melt 
again ;  and  there  we  should  again  taste  that  joy,  which 
is  eternal,  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  But  it  was  and 
remained  night ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  no  spring  would 
succeed  the  winter  in  our  souls.  We  sought,  but  found 
not.  We  wearied  ourselves  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem, 
and  fatigued  our  friends  with  our  complaints ;  we  rer 
sorted  to  every  expedient  to  refresh  and  invigorate  our 
hearts;  but  we  had  still  to  complain  with  the  Bride: 


SERMON  I.  197 

*  I  sought,  but  found  him  not.'  The  Bride  meets  with 
the  watchmen  who  go  about  the  city.  The  watchmen 
— who  are  they  ?  We,  the  ambassadors  for  Christ,  whose 
business  it  is  to  go  about  Jerusalem ;  to  watch  for  the 
safety  of  the  city ;  to  arouse  those  found  slumbering  in 
burning  houses,  and  on  the  edge  of  precipices ;  to  con- 
duct those  walking  in  their  sleep  from  the  dangerous 
rocks  on  which  they  climb ;  to  warn  those  who  stray 
from  the  path  of  life,  and  comfort  those  who  sit  solitary 
and  weep ;  to  encourage  those  who  lie  breathless  in 
the  streets  unable  to  proceed.  Yes,  the  watchmen  are 
the  Stewards  over  God's  mysteries.  To  them  the  Bride 
came,  and  addressed  the  inquiry :  '  Saw  ye  him  whom 
my  soul  loveth  V-  Amongst  them  she  expected  certainly 
to  find  what  she  sought ;  but  even  this  last  hope  deceiv- 
ed her.  Here  too  she  was  constrained  to  exclaim :  i  I 
sought;  but  found  him  not.'  Exhortation,  counsel,  and 
instruction  enough  ;  but  no  life,  no  joy,  no  interest  in 
the  Lord  and  his  cause,  nothing  of  that  which  she  desir- 
ed. She  had  now  wearied  herself  in  the  streets  of  Je- 
rusalem, had  tried  every  thing ;  but  still  she  remains) 
and  complains, '  I  sought,  but  found  him  not.' 

IV. — It  would  now  seem  as  if  the  Bride  were  for 
ever  cut  off  from  all  salvation ;  and  yet  her  salvation 
was  never  so  near  as  at  this  moment.  She  had  now 
reached  the  point  of  connection  and  union  with  Christ, 
which  is  eternal.  She  had  made  great  efforts  to  rekin- 
dle her  love  for  Christ,  his  kingdom,  and  his  cause,  but 
all  in  vain  ;  and  even  amongst  the  watchmen  who  go 
about  the  city,  she  had  not  recovered  what  she  had  lost. 


198         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

Lifeless  as  she  had  come  to  them,  had  she  again  depart- 
ed. And  as  she  proceeded  a  little  onward,  there — 
Well,  what  happened  there  ?  There,  methinks  she 
first  paused,  communicating  with  her  disconsolate  heart, 
and  felt,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  with  the  full  clear- 
ness and  force  of  truth,  the  worthlessness  of  man  and  all 
his  acts,  and  that  sin  hath  sunk  him  into  the  most  abject 
helplessness.  Nay,  that  so  deplorable  is  his  state,  and 
he  is  so  inwardly  dead,  that,  of  himself,  he  is  incapable 
of  gratitude  towards  the  greatest  of  all  benefactors,  the 
most  faithful  of  all  friends  ;  that  he  cannot  even  open 
his  mouth  in  praise  and  thankfulness  to  him,  who,  be- 
yond all  in  heaven  and  on  earth,  is  worthy  to  receive 
glory  and  honor,  thanksgiving  and  praise ;  that  of  him- 
self he  is  unable  to  rejoice  in  the  greatest  blessings,  or 
elevate  his  heart  in  prayer  to  God ;  that  he  cannot  ex- 
cite in  himself  any  desire  after  the  Lord  and  his  bene- 
fits j  and  that  even  the  best  adapted  means  are  insuffi- 
cient to  dissolve  his  rocky  heart  in  devotion,  love,  and 
holy  joy.  This  she  had  never  dreamt !  Indeed  how 
could  it  have  occurred  to  her,  that  human  nature  was 
so  debased  ?  But  now  experience  had  opened  her  eyes 
to  behold,  for  the  first  time,  its  complete  corruption ;  to 
perceive,  that  the  natural  life  was  in  reality  death,  and 
not  life,  now  for  the  first  time  she  felt  how  deep  her 
fall,  how  weak  and  barren  her  life  and  will,  how  great 
her  ruin,  and  need  of  help.  Hitherto  she  had  desired 
from  her  Bridegroom  nothing  but  kindness,  pleasure, 
and  refreshment :  now  she  requires  a  surety  to  appear 
for  her,  a  mediator  to  undertake  for  her,  an  intercessor 
to  plead  for  her  before  the  judgment  seat,  a  renovator 


SERMON  I.  199 

to  mould  her  into  something  on  which  the  eye  of  God 
might  rest  with  delight.  All  this  she  found  in  him,  who 
had  till  no w  been  nothing  more  to  her  than  a  beloved 
friend,  that  had  cheered  her  life  and  rejoiced  her  heart ; 
but  now  how  infinitely  precious  had  he  become.  When 
she  had  passed  on  a  little,  she  exclaims;  'I  found  him 
whom  my  soul  loveth  !' 

Was  it  not  the  same  with  us  ?  At  first  we,  too,  at- 
tached ourselves  to  the  Lord,  more  for  the  delight  we 
had  in  him  and  in  his  words,  than  because  without  him 
we  felt  ourselves  to  be  eternally  lost.  But  this  was  a 
slender  attachment,  a  feeble  love  ;  transient  as  the  plea- 
surable emotions  which  called  them  forth.  When  they 
vanished,  and  the  table  at  which  we  had  been  regaled, 
was  removed,  then,  alas!  we  fell  away  from  Christ,  and 
•  ••Mild  deny  him  ten  times  in  a  breath,  and  in  various 
ways.  But  when  enlightened  by  the  Spirit,  we  knew  our- 
selves as  lost,  as  ruined  creatures,  and  were  enabled  to  dis- 
cover in  Christ  a  Savior,  whose  hand  alone  could  snatch 
us  from  eternal  flames,  our  attachment  to  and  our  con- 
nection with  him  assumed  a  new  and  very  different 
character. 

I  hold  him,  thfr  Bride  joyfully  exclaims,  and  will  not 
let  him  go.  And  why  will  she  not  let  him  go  ?  Be- 
cause he  fills  her  heart  with  joy,  and  is  the  source  of 
many  delights.  The  Bride,  if  in  our  midst,  would  re- 
ply ;  Though  he  left  me  to  languish,  and  suffered  me 
not  to  taste  of  his  loveliness,  I  hold  him,  and  will  not 
let  him  go,  because  I  know  that  he  alone  can  save  me 
from  eternal  death.  *  I  hold  him,  and  will  not  let  him 
s;o.'  Why  not  ?  Because  he  sweetens  her  life,  and 


200  SOLOMON   AND   THE   SHULAMITE. 

richly  provides  for  all  her  necessities  ?  Oh  no,  oh  no, 
she  would  reply ;  though  he  gave  me  gall  to  drink  in 
this  life,  I  know  that  he  alone  can. conduct  me  safely 
through  the  gloomy  portals  of  eternity,  and  the  fiery 
scrutiny  of  the  last  judgment :  therefore  I  hold  him, 
and  will  not  let  him  go.  '  I  hold  him,  and  will  not  let 
him  go.'  And  why  not  ?  Because  he  can  help  her  to 
attain  that  righteousness  which  is  approved  before  God. 
Help,  the  Bride  would  exclaim  :  I  cannot  furnish  any 
thing  to  adorn  myself  for  the  great  wedding  ?  He  must, 
and  he  alone  can,  clothe  me  in  the  garments  of  salva- 
tion, in  which  to  appear  before  God.  Therefore  I  hold 
him,  and  will  not  let  him  go,  but  surrender  myself  en- 
tirely into  his  hands.  (  I  hold  him,  and  will  not  let  him 
go,'  she  exultingly  exclaims— or  rather  the  Spirit  with- 
in her — (  till  I  have  brought  him  into  my  mother's 
house.'  What  are  we,  then,  to  understand  by  her 
mother's  house  ?  Paul  says,  (Gal.  iv.  26,)  <  But  Jeru- 
salem which  is  above  is  free,  which  is  the  mother  of  us 
all."  There  she  will  bring  her  Surety7,  and  there  be 
brought  by  him.  Now,  beloved,  we  behold  a  soul  by 
the  grace  and  guidance  of  the  Lord,  united  to  Christ ; 
not  as  formerly,  by  a  sense  of  the  abundance  of  joy 
which  is  derived  from  him,  but  by  a  feeling  of  its  pover- 
ty and  great  misery  ;  not  by  the  experience,  ( It  is  good 
to  be  here,'  but  by  the  thorough  conviction  that  with- 
out him  hell,  death,  and  ruin  are  its  portion.  It  recog- 
nizes in  him  now,  not  merely  a  Comforter,  but  a  Sa- 
vior ;  and,  conscious  of  its  own  frailty,  it  no  longer 
hopes  for  eternal  life  as  the  reward  of  love  to  the  Lord, 
or  leans  on  its  pious  emotions  :  but  it  rests  exclusively 


SERMON   I.  201 

on  the  merits  of  Christ ;  and  it  can  say  with  Asaph,  in 
Psalm  Ixxiii.,  *  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  1 
and  there  is  none  upon  the  earth  that  I  desire  beside 
thee.  My  flesh  and  my  heart  faileth ;  but  God  is  the 
strength  of  my  heart,  and  ray  portion  for  ever.'  May 
the  Lord  thus  guide  us,  one  and  all ;  and  may  the  con- 
sciousness of  our  worthlessness  form  the  chain  which 
hinds  us  to  him ;  and  his  merit  and  love  to  sinners  be 
the  rock  on  which  our  peace  is  founded. 


18 


SERMON    IL 


SOLOMON'S  SONG,  n.  14. 

O  my  .dove,  that  art  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  secret  places 
of  the  stairs^  let  me  see  thy  countenance,  let  me  hear  thy 
voice  ;  for  sweet  is  thy  voice,  and  thy  countenance  is  comely. 

WHOSE  voice  is  it  we  have  just  heard  ?  It  is  the 
voice  of  the  fairest  of  the  children  of  men  ;  the  heavenly 
Bridegroom  speaks  to  Shulamite,  his  dearly  purchased 
church — or  to  individual  souls  affianced  and  wedded  to 
Him  in  faith.  Sweeter  than  milk  and  honey  are  the 
words  which  flow  from  his  lips;  and  when  the  Bride 
afterwards  so  joyously  exclaims,  c  Thy  lips,  O  my  spouse 
drop  as  the  honeycomb :  honey  and  milk  are  under  thy 
tongue ;'  she  does  so,  undoubtedly,  in  the  blissful  re- 
collection of  this  address  of  her  Bridegroom,  and  of  the 
soul-refreshing  words :  '  My  dove  in  the  clefts  of  the 
rocks,  in  the  secret  places  of  the  stairs,  let  me  see  thy 
countenance,  let  me  hear  thy  voice ;  for  sweet  is  thy 
voice,  and  thy  countenance  is  comely.' 

We  will  now  consider  the  words  more  closely :  and 
may  the  Lord  abundantly  refresh  us  from  this  fountain 
of  living  waters  ! 

I.  Let  us  contemplate  the  dove  in  the  clefts  of  the 
rocks. 


SERMON  II.  203 

II.  Then,  consider  what  the  Bridegroom  intends  by 
this  address  to  her ;  *  Let  me  see  thy  counte- 
nance, let  me  hear  thy  voice.' 

I. — «  My  dove.'— Thus  the  Lord  addresses  the  elect. 
He  calls  them  frequently  by  this  tender  epithet.  In  the 
tilth  chapter  In  ^,i\  v.  •  ( )p^n  to  me,  my  sister,  my  dove1 :' 
and  in  another  placej  *  My  dove,  my  undefiled_,  is  but 
one.'  But  why  are  they  addressed  as  doves  ?  Is  it  on 
account  of  the  splendid  plumage,  the  righteousness  of 
Christ,  in  which  they  are  arrayed  ?  As  it  is  said,  Psalm 
Ixviii.,  *  Though  ye  have  lain  among  the  pots,  yet 
shall  ye  be  as  the  wings  of  a  dove  covered  with  silver, 
and  her  feathers  as  yellow  gold.'  Or  is  it  because  of 
the  gentle  spirit  of  Jesus  which  is  in  them,  and  which 
once  displayed  itself  visibly  under  the  form  of  a  dove  ? 
Or  are  they  called  doves,  because  they  rise  above  the 
world  ;  as  Moses  declares  :  '  and  thou  shalt  be  above 
only,  and  thou  shalt  not  be  beneath  V  Doubtless  all 
this  appertains  to  the  character.  But  if  we  take  a 
diaper  and  more  enlarged  view  of  the  figure,  we  shall 
find  points  of  resemblance,  between  a  soul  converted  to 
the  Lord,  and  a  dove,  more  numerous,  and  perhaps 
more  attractive  and  striking. 

If  the  lamb  be  excepted,  there  is  no  creature  more 
defenceless  than  the  dove.  She  has  neither  tooth  nor 
claw,  neither  hoof  nor  sting,  only  a  pair  of  wings  for 
flight ;  in  flight  lies  her  entire  strength  and  triumph. 
Thus,  we  confess  it,  whether  it  be  to  our  honor  or 
shame,  thus  it  is  with  us,  whom  grace  has  transformed 
into  the  doves  of  Christ.  Those  who  are  out  of  Christ, 


204         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

are  all  stronger.  What  heroes  do  we  not  find  amongst 
them !  who  think  themselves  equal  to  every  encounter  ; 
who  know  nothing  of  fear  and  caution;  whom  no 
enemy  can  make  tremble,  no  danger  appals ;  and  who 
would  disdain  to  look  for  help  in  circumstances  ever  so 
perilous.  They  think  to  vanquish  empires  by  the 
strength  of  their  arm  ;  to  seize  the  promises  as  a  prey  ; 
with  the  right  hand  of  their  own  righteousness  to  stop 
the  lion's  mouth ;  to  extinguish  the  fires  of  the  last 
judgment  with  self-acquired  virtues ;  and  to  escape  the 
edge  of  the  sword  by  their  own  wisdom  and  dexterity. 
Of  all  this,  like  dreamers,  they  think  themselves  capa- 
ble, through  the  power  of  their  own  might.  Yea,  what 
cowardly  fugitives  are  we,  when  contrasted  with  those 
giants  in  virtue,  who  think  to  scatter  their  enemies  like 
chaff;  that  sin,  the  world,  and  the  devil,  with  every 
other  bitter  foe,  shall  fall  before  them ;  whilst  we  pre- 
pare for  instant  flight,  if  we  but  hear  the  distant  roar 'of 
the  approaching  lion.  We  venture  on  no  contest 
alone  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  trumpet  of  conflict  sounds, 
seeks  protection  behind  the  shield  of  our  champion. 
They  display  a  more  heroic  spirit ;  and,  proudly  scorn- 
ing all  support,  rush,  as  if  invulnerable,  into  the  hottest 
fire  of  temptation ;  and,  though  vanquished,  exult  in 
the  glory  of  falling  on  the  scene  of  conflict,  the  field  of 
honor.  Such  honor  we  disclaim.  We  are  not  such 
Anakim,  such  giants  and  lions.  St.  Paul,  indeed, 
speaks  of  breastplates  and  armor ;  of  the  helmet,  the 
shield,  and  the  sword,  with  which  we  are  equipped ; 
and,  judging  from  this  description,  we  might  be  taken 
for  wonderful  heroes.  But  such  is  not  his  meaning. 


SERMON  II.  205 

As  a  dove  escaped  from  the  hawk,  and  safe  in  the 
shelter  of  her  covert,  may  be  said  to  be  ajrmed  against 
her  foe,  and  to  be  covered  with  helmet  and  shield  5  in 
the  same  sense  are  we  renowned  in  many  parts  of 
Scripture  as  formidable,  as  cased  in  armor,  and  terrible 
as  an  army.  But  like  the  dove,  our  entire  strength  and 
invincibility  consists  in  flight,  and  in  taking  refuge;  for 
we  are  defenceless  in  and  by  ourselves,  and  it  has  hap- 
pened to  us  as  it  once  happened  to  Saul — the  Philistines 
have  stripped  us  of  our  armor,  and  have  deposited  it  in 
the  house  of  Ashtaroth.  Do  Satanic  temptations  assail 
us  ?  We  hasten  to  Him  who  will  be  our  house  and  our 
refuge,  and  there  we  are  found  secure.  Do  we  hear 
the  devil  roar  ?  We  venture  not  to  encounter  him, 
well  knowing  it  would  be  rushing  immediately  into  his 
jaws.  We  cling  to  the  Savior,  and  a  wall  of  fire  com- 
passes us  around.  If  the  lusts  of  the  flesh  revive  and 
stir  within  us — unlike  those  who  strive  to  conquer  them 
by  firm  resolves,  and  other  self-devised  expedients— we 
quickly  fly  to  him  who  is  our  shield.  And  scarcely  have 
we  beheld  his  bleeding  wounds,  scarcely  stammered  forth 
a  single  *  Lord  Jesus,'  when  the  victory  is  ours ;  while 
they,  with  all  their  panoply  of  self- will  and  self-exertion, 
sink  <!(•<•]>  into  the-  mire.  This  is  our  method,  and  it  is 
that  of  the  dove.  We  by  no  means  enter  into  any 
conflict  ;  wt:  seek  our  salvation  solely  in  flight.  Jesus 
is  our  armor :  the  shield  that  protects  us ;  the  helmet 
that  screens  us ;  the  sword  that  defends,  and  the  fortress 
that  encircles  us. 

Doves,  it  is  well  known,  love  their  accustomed  dwell- 
ing-place.    And  would  we   ascertain  whether  we  be- 
18* 


206  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

long  to  the  spiritual  swarm  of  doves,  we  must  minutely 
examine  how  we  feel  in  the  world,  whether  pleasure  or 
pain ;  for  by  this  we  may  know  it.  If  we  are  the  doves 
of  Christ,  born  of  him,  we  feel  pain,  anxiety,  and 
fear,  wherever  he  is  not;  and  as  this  must  ever  be 
the  case,  it  is  impossible  to  experience  the  delights 
and  comforts  of  home  in  worldly  society,  or  .in 
worldly  pursuits ;  on  the  contrary,  we  are  uneasy 
and  straitened,  the  heart  is  oppressed,  and  lifts 
its  wings  to  seek  a  purer  atmosphere.  As  a  child 
among  strangers  is  alarmed,  and  ceases  not  to  inquire 
for  its  mother ;  and  as  the  soul  of  an  exile  swells  with 
inexpressible  longings  after  the  land  which  gave  him 
birth ;  so  feel  the  doves  of  Christ  in  the  air  of  this  world. 
Nay,  in  it  they  cannot  live  nor  endure  to  the  end ;  they 
must  continually  ask  for  their  mother,  and  are  no  where 
so  happy  as  in  the  air  which  encircles  the  mountains  of 
Jerusalem.  '  In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation,' 
says  Christ;  this  is  one  of  the  most  infallible  marks  of 
a  state  of  grace. 

Whilst  we  are  speaking  of  doves,  some  one  amongst 
you  may  perhaps  be  reminded  of  the  ancient  well  known, 
and  so  called  carrier  pigeon,  and  inquire  whether  there 
are  no  points  of  resemblance  between  spiritual  doves, 
and  them  1  Undoubtedly  there  are.  They  both  are 
able  to  return  to  their  homes,  wherever  placed.  They 
have  a  free  passage ;  and  are  ever  willing  to  carry  with 
them  the  burdens  and  messages  of  strangers. 

When  the  fiery  serpents  came  upon  idolatrous  Israel, 
the  people  themselves  venture  not  before  the  Lord  with 
their  complaints,  but  applied  to  Moses  to  intercede  for 


SERMON    II.  207 

them ;  and  he  flew  up  to  the  house  of  the  Lord,  and 
poured  the  distress  of  Israel  into  the  ears  of  an  all  mer- 
ciful God  ;  thus  Moses  became  the  carrier  dove  of  his 
people.  So  David  flew  for  Solomon,  Lot  for  Zoar, 
Daniel  for  Jerusalem,  and  Job  for  his  children — ascend- 
ed on  the  wings  of  prayer,  and  brought  the  suit  of  those 
for  whom  they  went  forth  before  the  Father's  throne. 
And  when  Jeroboam  besought  the  man  of  God  to  pray 
that  his  withered  hand  might  be  restored ;  and  Darius 
entreated  the  Jews  to  pray  for  the  King's  life ;  and  Si- 
mon requested  the  Apostles  to  pray,  that  none  of  the 
things  which  he  had  threatened  might  come  upon  him ; 
— then  the  man  of  God,  the  Jews,  and  the  Apostles 
were  employed  as  carrier  doves,  to  bring  the  affairs  of 
those,  who  have  themselves  no  wings,  into  the  Father's 
house.  O  all  ye  winged  souls,  who  know  the  way 
above,  and  have  free  ingress  and  egress  through  the 
blood  of  Christ ;  disdain  not  ye  likewise,  to  be  the  flying 
post  between  heaven  and  earth,  and  willing  interpos- 
ers  between  your  brethren,  who  have  as  yet  neither 
wings  nor  voice,  and  God.  Carry  not  only  your  own 
burdens  before  the  throne  of  grace,  but  likewise  those 
of  strangers.  To  be  a  dove  of  Christ ;  to  have  unre- 
strained access  to  Him,  as  to  our  house ;  to  receive  from 
his  hand  daily  and  hourly  supplies  of  grace  and  mercy, 
and  to  drink  of  the  pure  fountains  of  Israel — truly  this 
is  a  happy  state  !  O  that  God  would  form  all  our  souls 
in  this  dovelike  manner,  to  this  dovelike  state. 

But  to  return  to  our  text.  *  My  dove,'  says  the  Lord. 
Where  is  this  dove  now  to  be  found  ?  where  is  her 
place  ?  Ezekiel  once  speaks  of  doves  of  the  mountains, 


208         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

all  of  them  mourning  for  their  iniquity.  Shall  we  meet 
our  dove  there  ?  No ;  once,  it  is  true,  she  may  have 
had  her  seat  amongst  them,  mourning  and  sighing  with 
them,  in  ashes ;  but  now  she  has  soared  upwards  from 
this  gloomy  region  and  vale  of  tears,  and  dwells  else- 
where. Isaiah  beholds  from  a  great  distance  a  whole 
swarm  of  doves  flying  as  a  cloud.  Is  ours  perhaps 
amongst  them?  No,  our  dove  has  already  reach- 
ed the  windows,  towards  which  they  are  only  fly- 
ing. Noah's  first  dove,  as  you  know,  fluttered  rest- 
lessly over  the  surface  of  the  waters,  and  found 
no  resting  place.  So  flutter  many.  Does  our  dove  rer 
semble  Noah's  1  Not  at  all :  our  dove  has  found  rest 
for  the  sole  of  her  foot,  and  the  olive  tree  on  whose 
crown  to  alight.  She  is  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock.  '  My 
dove  is  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  secret  places  of 
the  stairs,'  says  the  Lord.  Now  behold  this  weak  and 
defenceless  bird,  seated  proudly  and  securely  in  her 
rock,  like  a  king  in  his  castle,  or  a  chieftain  in  his  camp, 
bidding  defiance  to  the  whole  world.  No  fowler  can 
reach,  no  hawk  penetrate  her  dwelling ;  no  serpent  cast 
its  venom  so  high ;  and  though  the  beasts  of  prey  that 
roam  the  valley,  howl  amongst  themselves,  the  dove  in 
her  fortress  can  laugh  and  look  calmly  down  upon  the 
tumult.  Clouds  roll  their  thunders  over  them  :  but  she 
has  no  fear.  Lightnings  flash  fiercely  around ;  but  the 
rock  is  not  melted  in  this  fire.  Mountains  sink  before 
the  storm,  and  mighty  forests  are  laid  waste  ;  but  the 
foundations  of  her  house  stand  fast. 

The  dove  then  dwells  in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks.     If 
we  now  abandon  the  figure,  and  judge  the  subject  spirit- 


SERMON  II.  209 

ually,  the  rock  will  be  Christ,  the  rock  of  salvation,  and 
the  clefts  his  bleeding  wounds,  in  which  rests,  like  a 
dove,  every  believing  and  accepted  soul.  Of  a  truth  it 
has  found  a  safe  retreat.  Not  so  you,  who  are  firmly 
nested  in  the  dry  brambles  of  your  own  righteousness. 
Behold  the  branches  will  be  burned  in  the  fire  of  the 
judgment,  and  oh  !  the  poor  bird  with  them.  Not  ye, 
who  depend  upon  your  own  piety,  and  expect  salvation 
from  it.  Oh !  believe  it,  that  in  the  day  of  judgment 
this  will  be  counted  as  stubble,  which  is  cast  into  the 
oven,  but  not  as  a  ground  of  your  redemption.  But 
our  dove  has  found  a  Zoar,  not  in  herself;  for  there  she 
could  only  discover  what  merited  condemnation ;  nor  in 
her  own  works  and  feelings ;  of  these  she  could  only 
exclaim,  Unclean !  unclean !  She  was  not  so  foolish  as 
to  dream  of  gathering  grapes  on  the  shores  of  the  Dead 
Sea.  She  found  her  rest,  and  the  certainty  of  her  sal- 
vation and  future  bliss,  not  in  herself,  but  in  the  wounds 
of  Christ,  in  his  bleeding  merits  and  atoning  death. 
Her  mind  was  so  staid  and  governed  that  she  knew 
herself  just  before  God,  not  on  account  of  the  new  life 
that  had  sprung  up  within  her,  but  only  on  account  of 
the  blood-shedding  of  her  surety.  And  this  is  the  foun- 
dation which  is  firm  and  abiding,  when  every  thing  else 
sinks  and  passes  away. 

Of  him,  whose  salvation  is  firmly  settled  on  the  per- 
fect satisfaction  rendered  by  his  Surety,  whose  hopes 
centre  in  the  merits  of  the  true  Paschal  Lamb,  and  who 
esteems  himself  secure  in  Christ  alone — of  him,  it  may 
well  be  said  :  *  Behold  a  dove  in  the  clefts  of  a  high 
rock,  and  in  the  secret  places  of  the  stairs !'  No  prince 


210         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

was  ever  so  securely  entrenched  behind  his  fortifica- 
tions, his  ramparts  and  walls,  as  this  dove.  Moses  is  a 
skilful  archer,  and  sends  out  curses ;  but  here  he  may 
leave  his  skill ;  no  ban  can  disturb,  no  curse  affect,  this 
dove.  For  her  silence  of  night  reigns  on  Sinai  and 
Ebal,  and  the  wild  flames  of  fire  are  quenched  in  the 
blood  of  the  Redeemer.  The  subtilty  of  Satan  is  foil- 
ed ;  he  may  indeed  go  about  the  rock,  and  roar,  but  he 
cannot  seize  the  dove,  without  swallowing  the  rock  it- 
self, in  which  she  dwells.  Should  even  her  love  de- 
cline, and  her  faith  glimmer  as  an  expiring  light ; 
should  her  zeal  cool,  and  her  heart  become  steril,  as  a 
barren  sand;  yet  is  she  safe,  for,  God  be  thanked!  her 
faith,  her  zeal,  her  love,  are  not  her  resting  place ;  her 
stronghold  and  her  fortress  are  alone  the  blessed  wounds 
of  Christ.  In  this  frame  she  is  ever  fair  in  the  sight  of 
God ;  and  though  miserable  herself,  she  shines  as  a 
crown  of  gold  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord.  And  suppos- 
ing the  Eternal  would  consume  her,  as  a  devouring 
flame  ;  in  this  palace  she  is  stronger  than  the  anger  of 
God,  and  conquers  the  Eternal  in  his  wrath.  I  there- 
fore call  upon  you  all,  in  the  words  of  Jeremiah, '  0  ye 
that  dwell  in  Moab,  leave  the  cities,  and  dwell  in  the 
rock,  and  be  like  the  dove  that  maketh  her  nest  in  the 
sides  of  the  hole's  mouth.' 

II. — We  have  now  contemplated  the  dove  in  her  se- 
cure retreat,  after  she  has  renounced  all  self-depend- 
ence, and,  despairing  of  herself,  has  taken  shelter  in  the 
clefts  of  the  rock,  the  rock  of  Christ's  merits.  Let  us 
now"  listen  to  the  voice  of  the  Bridegroom.  <  My  dove,' 


SERMON  II.  211 

he  cries,  '  my  dove  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  se- 
cret places  of  the  stairs,  let  me  see  thy  countenance,  let 
me  hear  thy  voice ;  for  sweet  is  thy  voice,  and  thy 
countenance  is  lovely.'  What  does  the  Lord  mean  by 
this  address  ;  how  is  he  to  be  understood  ;  and  what 
secret  motive  may  have  prompted  it  ?  To  me  it  ap- 
pears thus : — 

The  Lord  will  see  the  countenance  of  his  dove  and 
hear  her  voice,  because  her  voice  is  sweet,  and  her 
countenance  is  comely.  By  her  countenance  is  intend- 
ed the  golden  plumage,  the  imputed  righteousness  of 
of  Christ,  in  which  she  is  adorned ;  the  new  life  in 
God,  the  new  creature  within  her,  the  man  of  light  for 
whom  the  world  is  become  too  narrow  ;  the  faith  with 
which  she  is  filled,  the  peace  and  tranquillity  which  take 
possession  of  her  pardoned  soul ;  it  is  her  illumination, 
her  holy  longing  and  desires,  and  her  inward,  constant, 
spontaneous  resistance  to  all  darkness  and  sin — all  these 
belong  to  the  countenance  of  the  dove.  Her  voice  is 
the  incense  of  prayer  and  supplication,  of  praise  and 
adoration,  kindled  by  the  Spirit's  sacred  fire.  This  is 
the  voice  the  Lord  wishes  to  hear,  and  this  is  the  coun- 
tenance he  desires  to  behold.  Do  you  wonder  that  he 
should  desire  this?  Is  it  not  said  (Psalm  civ.  31.) 
1  The  Lord  shall  rejoice  in  his  works  ?'  He  is  himself 
the  perfection  of  beauty,  and  his  pleasure  is  to  behold 
himself,  and  all  that  has  proceeded  from  him.  The 
Seraphim  around  his  throne  are  his  delight,  because  he 
sees  in  them,  as  in  a  mirror,  his  own  glorious  image. 
But  he  rejoices  still  more  to  view  it  in  the  dark  ground 
of  the  sinner's  soul. 


212  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

The  morning  stars  proclaim  his  praise,  even  in  their 
silence ;  and  they  display  with  astonishing  lustre  the 
purity  of  him  who  made  them.  But  of  all  his  works 
none  so  loudly  declare  his  praise,  as  the  work  of  grace 
in  the  sinner's  heart.  With  inexpressible  glory  his 
power  and  love  are  there  exhibited.  Imagine,  a  sinner 
worthy  only  of  condemnation,  becoming  at  once  holy  ; 
as  David  in  the  same  breath  declares  :  I  am  poor  and 
needy,  I  am  holy  ;  a  servant  of  the  wicked  one  trans- 
formed into  a  dear  child  of  God :  a  creature  of  dark- 
ness becomes  light,  like  the  sun,  because  its  light  is 
come  ;  dead  wood  begins  to  put  forth  and  bud ;  and  in 
miry  clay  begins  to  be  formed  the  image  of  the  God- 
head. What  a  manifestation  of  the  glory  of  the  Lord  ! 
How  grand,  how  amazing  an  exhibition  of  the  glory  of 
his  name,  of  his  infinite  power  and  inscrutable  mercy  ! 

And  shall  the  Lord  not  find  pleasure  in  the  work  of 
his  hand  ?  He  desires  to  see  this  work,  and  rejoice  to 
contemplate  himself  in  it.  c  Shew  me  thy  countenance 
and  let  me  hear  thy  voice ;  for  thy  voice  is  sweet,  and 
thy  countenance  is  comely."  But  why  c  shew  me  thy 
countenance  V  why  '  let  me  hear  thy  voice  ?'  What 
does  the  Bridegroom  mean  ?  Is  not  the  Bride  always 
looking  towards  him  ?  Does  she  not  live  and  move  in 
him  ?  Does  he  not  behold  her  every  moment  ?  Why 
then  this  call  to  shew  her  countenance  ?  And  does  he  not 
hear  her  voice,  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  her  soul  1  This 
voice  is  never  silent  to  his  ear.  This  is  indeed  all  true. 
Yet,  sometimes  it  pleases  the  Lord  to  require  a  more 
prominent  display  of  what  his  grace  has  wrought  in  the 
secret  sanctuary  of  the  soul :  partly,  that  those  in  whom 


SERMON  II.  213 

his  work  is  carried  on  may  attain  to  clearer  perceptions 
of  it,  and  be  incited  to  more  elevated  devotion  ;  .partly 
to  furnish  a  glorious  spectacle  to  angels,  and  to  the 
world,  and  to  magnify  his  holy  name  in  their  eyes. 
With  this  view  he  leads  his  people  from  under  the 
grateful  shadow  of  the  palm-trees  of  Elim,  again  into 
the  wilderness ;  and  calls  them  forth  from  tranquility  and 
calm  contemplation,  into  the  tumult  of  life,  into  various 
perplexities,  into  night  and  gloom,  where  the  light  which 
his  grace  has  transfused  into  them  has  opportunity  to 
prove  its  existence,  and  to  shine  forth  conspicuously. 
The  severe  trial  which  he  suspended  over  Abraham,  and 
the  command,  *  Go,  and  sacrifice  thy  son  whom  thou 
lovest' — what  was  it  but  the  same  call,  though  disguis- 
ed, '  My  dove,  shew  me  thy  countenance,  and  let  me 
hear  thy  voice.'  And,  behold,  the  voice  of  this  dove 
was  sweet,  and  her  countenance  comely  !  The  conflict 
with  Jacob — for  what  purpose  did  it  take  place  ?  That 
it  might  evince,  how  powerful  the  strength  of  the  Lord 
is  in  our  weakness  ;  and  what  courage,  what  invinci- 
bility, he  can  infuse  into  a  dismayed  and  fearful  heart ; 
and  the  countenance  of  this  dove  also  was  most  comely 
in  its  appearance.  Therefore  know,  all  ye  spiritual  doves ; 
if  Jesus  lead  you  in  a  similar  way,  if  thick  darkness 
encompass,  or  the  flres  of  temptation  rage  around ;  if 
he  rouse  you  from  your  security,  and  causes  Laban  to 
assail  you  from  behind,  and  Esau  from  before ;  he  only 
seeks  in  this  way  an  opportunity,  partly  himself,  to  be- 
hold the  work  of  grace  within  you,  and  partly  to  dis- 
cover it  to  yourself  and  others ;  and  in  this  gloomy  dis- 
pensation the  call  goes  forth  to  you,  '  My  dove  in  the 
19 


'214  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  secret  places  of  the  stairs,  let 
me  see  thy  countenance,  let  me  hear  thy  voice ;  for 
sweet  is  thy  voice,  and  thy  countenance  is  comely.' 

What  we  have  now  said  is  true,  but  whether  it  be 
also  applicable  to  our  dove  in  the  Canticles  is  another 
question.  I  believe  it  is  not.  In  my  opinion  it  is  not 
the  intention  of  the  Lord,  in  this  instance,  to  call  forth 
the  soul  from  her  tranquil  and  contemplative  state,  and 
to  involve  her  in  perplexities,  in  order  that  her  graces 
may  appear  in  a  stronger  light.  No,  I  think  I  can  per- 
ceive a  motive  yet  infinitely  more  lovely  and  tender  in 
this  call ;  '  Shew  me  thy  countenance,  let  me  hear  thy 
voice.' 

The  soul,  whom  Jesus  here  calls  his  dove,  has  ac- 
quired an  insight  into  herself,  and  her  ruined  state — and 
into  the  depth  of  that  fearful  abyss  on  the  edge  of  which 
she  had  so  long  unconsciously  slumbered;  she  has 
caught  a  distant  glimpse  of  the  judgment-throne,  and 
the  Lord,  as  a  consuming  fire  seated  upon  it,  with  her 
sentence  of  death  upon  his  lips  :  then  anguish  and  hor- 
ror took  hold  upon  her,  as  an  armed  man  ;'•  then  she  fal- 
tered from  place  to  place  to  find  a  refuge,  a  secure  re- 
treat from  his  vengeance.  She  sought  but  found  none ; 
the  billows  of  anguish  mounted  high,  and  rolled  tumult- 
uously  over  her — then  the  Savior  appeared  to  her  with 
the  cheerful  declaration,  '  I,  even  I  am  He  that  blotteth 
out  thy  transgressions,  for  mine  own  sake,  and  will  not 
remember  thy  sins.'  She  no  sooner  heard  these  glad 
tidings,  than  she  rose  and  embraced  him ;  she  cast  her- 
self upon  Him  as  her  only  hope ;  and  in  his  merits,  in 
his  wounds,  she  found  the  long-sought  refuge  and  place 


SERMON   If.  215 

of  rest.  Now  she  is  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  rejoicing 
as- a  brand  just  plucked  from  the  burning.  But  her  joy 
is  not  unmixed,  her  state  of  grace  not  yet  perfect ;  ma- 
ny things  still  separate  between  her  and  the  Lord.  Her 
soul  is  yet  oppressed  with  difficulties  that  render  it  im- 
possible freely  to  exult  in  the  grace  she  has  received. 
Sometimes  the  sense  of  her  unworthiness  weighs 
like  a  mountain  on  her  heart,  and  she  is  ashamed  to  lift 
up  her  eyes ;  she  cannot  conceive,  that,  for  her  sake, 
the  Savior  should  submit  to  such  labor  and  trouble. 
The  wounds,  that  constitute  her  safety,  become  her  pain. 
Sometimes  the  fear  of  again  falling  into  sin,  and  of  los- 
ing what  she  has  gained,  afflicts  her ;  and  she  strives, 
with  fear  and  trembling,  if  by  any  means  she  might 
arm  and  defend  herself  from  the  roaring  lion  who 
threatens  her  destruction.  She  cannot  believe  that  he 
\vho  delivered  her  should  still  care  for  her — feeling 
deeply  her  unworthiness  she  considers  this  would  be 
requiring  too  much ;  it  is  enough,  more  than  enough, 
that  he  so  mercifully  snatched  her  from  the  fire.  She 
is  as  yet  entirely  destitute  of  filial  confidence  in  Jesus ; 
she  lies  prostrate  at  his  feet,  and  would  pour  forth  her 
gratitude,  but  the  thought  obtrudes  itself:  "  Ah !  what 
value  can  the  King,  surrounded  by  his  seraphim,  place 
on  my  poor  thanks  ?"  She  would  pray,  but  awe  re- 
strains her  tongue,  and  she  imagines  so  much  has  alrea- 
dy been  done  for  her,  she  ought  not  to  desire  more.  Such 
is  her  state  ;  great  fear  yet  blended  with  her  joy,  great 
pressure  of  heart ;  her  intercourse  with  the  Savior  is  not 
yet  that  filial,  cordial,  unrestrained  communion,  which 
is  so  full  of  great  benefits  and  of  rich  blessings. 

The  Lord  well  saw  the  state  of  his  poor  dove's  heart ; 


216  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

and  he  saw  it  partly  with  delight,  and  partly  with  sin- 
cere compassion.  He  approached  her,  and  addressed 
her  tenderly,  in  order  to  gain  her  confidence, c  My  dove, 
why  art  thou  cast  down  ?  Art  thou  apprehensive,  that 
I  having  extended  my  arm  for  thy  deliverance,  thou 
hast  no  farther  interest  in  me,  and  that  my  mercy  is  ex- 
hausted ?  Thou  knowest  not  how  my  heart  is  affected 
towards  thee.  I  have  indeed  redeemed  thee ;  but 
thinkest  thou  that  it  has  been  like  one  redeeming  a 
creature  of  indifference,  and  then  going  on  his  way  ? 
No,  I  also  love  thee — thou  pleasest  me  :  shew  me  thy 
countenance — thy  countenance  is  comely  unto  me,  I 
have  pleasure  therein  :  be  not  silent  before  me,  let  me 
hear  thy  voice,  it  is  sweet  to  me ;  thou  art  my  delight ; 
and  it  is  perhaps  of  higher  importance  to  me,  than  even 
to  thee,  that  thou  shouldst  be  kept  from  the  enemy,  and 
that  the  work  begun  in  thee  should  be  perfected  to  thy 
profit,  and  to  my  honor  and  glory." 

And  it  was  not  perhaps  until  the  dove  comprehended 
the  force  of  this  endearing  declaration,  that  she  was 
able  fully  to  rejoice.  Every  oppression,  every  burden 
was  at  once  removed  from  her  soul.  Her  heart  was 
now  free,  her  courage  glowed,  and  her  relation  to  Jesus 
had  assumed  an  entirely  new  character.  It  had  become 
a  blissful,  familiar  intercourse  of  giving  and  receiving ; 
of  ingenuous,  childlike  application  and  desire,  and  of 
unceasing  supply  ;  and,  in  the  place  of  fear  and  trem- 
bling, had  succeeded  the  most  joyful  assurance  ;  for  she 
now  knew,  not  only  that  Christ  was  hers,  but  that  she 
was  his.  What  a  blissful  state !  in  which  whatever 
had  intervened  between  us .  and  the  life-spring  of  our 
spiritual  joy,  has  disappeared ;  in  which  every  doubt  or 


SERMON  II.  217 

difficulty  that  had  prevented  an  entire  surrender  and 
devotion  of  ourselves  to  the  best  of  all  masters,  is  abol- 
ished ;  and  in  which  every  impediment  to  an  unrestrain- 
ed supply  of  grace  from  his  fulness  is  removed.  O  ye 
redeemed  of  the  Lord,  who  have,  by  Divine  grace 
found  the  only  secure  hiding  place,  whose  souls  have 
fled  to  the  rock  which  was  founded  by  God  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world ;  but  who  have  not,  like  our 
dove,  attained  to  a  child-like,  confidential,  and  ingenu- 
ous intercourse  with  your  Surety  ;  who  have  embraced 
him  as  a  Redeemer,  but  not  yet  as  a  friend,  not  yet  as 
a  brother,  and  the  benignant  guide  of^your  life,  who  is 
willing  to  dwell  with  you  under  one  roof,  to  carry  you 
in  his  bosom,  and  who  entirely  lives  for  his  own,  as 
once  he  died  for  them — may  you  soon  obtain  from  the 
Lord  of  Lords,  in  this  or  in  any  other  manner,  the 
blessed  assurance  that  he  is  not  merely  pleasing  in 
your  sight,  but  that  you  are  likewise  well  pleasing  in 
his  ;  that  your  countenance  is  comely  to  him,  and  your 
voice  sweet,  much  sweeter  than  ever  his  voice  to  you ; 
that  you  may  not  continue  oppressed  and  fearful,  and 
appear  as  brands  scarcely  plucked  from  the  burning  ; 
but  that  you  may  enjoy  the  blessed  state  of  the  Apostle 
John,  and  repose  upon  his  bosom  as  free  and  beloved 
children,  in  the  full  experience  of  what  is  said  by  David, 
(Psalms  xxxvi.  7 — 8,)  /  How  excellent  .is "  thy  loving 
kindness,  O  God  !  therefore  the  children  of  men  put 
their  trust  under  the  shadow  of  thy  wings.  They 
shall  be  abundantly  satisfied  with  the  fatness  of  thy 
house,  and  thou  shalt  make  them  drink  of  the  river  of 
thy  pleasures.'  Amen. 
19* 


SERMON   III. 


SOLOMON'S  SONG  i.  5 — 6. 

/  am  black,  but  comely,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem  ;  as  the 
tents  of  Kedar,  as  the  curtains  of  Solomon.  Look  not  upon 
me,  because  I  am  black,  because  the  sun  hath  looked  upon  me  ; 
my  mother  s  children  were  angry  with  me,  they  made  me  the 
keeper  of  the  vineyards ;  but  my  own  vineyard  have  I  not 
kept, 

THE  words  of  the  text  are  those  of  Shulamite,  a  re- 
deemed soul ;  and  they  contain  a  remarkable  testimony 
of  herself.  She  here  describes  her  inward  and  outward 
state,  in  a  well  conceived  picture  ;  and  she  gives  us  at 
the  same  time  a  passing  sketch  from  the  history  of  her 
inward  life.  Let  me  beg  your  attention,  while  en- 
deavoring to  investigate  the  import  of  her  words.  We 
will  consider  : 

I.  Shulamite's  blackness  :  £  I  am  black — the  sun  has 

looked  upon  me.' 

n.  Her  comeliness  and  beauty :  '  I  am  comely  as  the 
tents  of  Kedar,  as  the  curtains  of  Solomon.' 
And  lastly,  reflect  upon, 

III.  The  experience  which  she  mentions  :  f  my 
mother's  children  were  angry  with  me;  they 
made  me  keeper  of  the  vineyards ;  but  my  own 
vineyard  have  I  not  kept. 


SERMON    III.  219 

I. — '  I  am  black !'  Singular  confession  !  The  Bride 
of  the  Most  Lovely,  black  !  In  the  kingdom  of  Christ, 
how  counter  every  thing  runs  to  reason,  and  our  natural 
conceptions !  For  example :  one  would  imagine  the 
natural  order  to  be,  first,  holiness,  and  then  pardon. 
But  the  law  of  this  kingdom  reverses  the  matter,  and 
declares,  Pardon  first,  and  then  sanctification.  Reason 
thinks  virtue  to  be  the  way  to  peace  ;  but  the  Divine 
rule  makes  peace  with  God  precede,  and  virtue  follow 
as  the  fruit  of  peace,  and  not  peace  as  the  fruit  of  vir- 
tue. Human  wisdom  supposes  a  man  must  become 
upright  before  he  can  attain  the  rights  of  citizenship  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  but  the  wisdom  of  God  ap- 
points the  kingdom  to  sinners,  and  numbers  integrity  of 
life  amongst  the  things  to  be  enjoyed  within  its  bounda- 
ries— not  without  them.  Reason  cannot  think  other- 
wise, than  that  a  child  of  *God  must  be  pure  and  imma- 
culate ;  and  behold,  here  steps  forth  such  a  child  of 
God,  a  soul  entirely  devoted  to  the  Lord,  and  declares 
without  the  smallest  reserve :  *  I  am  black,  O  ye 
daughters  of  Jerusalem.'  Black  both  inwardly  and 
outwardly.  Whence  then  thy  blackness,  thou  fairest 
among  women  ?  *  The  sun  has  looked  upon  me.'  The 
sun !  what  sun  ?  Surely  not  the  Sun  of  righteousness, 
that  bringeth  healing  in  his  wings,  and  is  the  fountain 
of  all  light  ?  Yes,  the  very  same.  In  his  vicinity,  in 
the  blaze  of  his  light,  the  Shulamite  has  become  black. 

Whence  does  she  come,  the  heavenly  dove  ?  Can  it 
be  from  the  world,  has  she  there  soiled  her  plumage ; 
or  from  the  paths  of  sin,  or  the  fires  of  temptation  ? 
By  no  means ;  she  is  come  straightway  from  the  King's 


220  SOLOMON   AND    THE    SHULAMITE. 

chamber  ;  where  she  has  rejoiced  in  him,  and  refreshed 
herself  with  the  fulness  of  his  grace.  And  she  no  soon- 
er leaves  this  sacred  place,  than  she  discovers  that  she 
is  black.  Whence  then  her  blackness  ?  She  is  black 
from  the  rays  of  that  Sun,  in  whose  beams  she  has  been 
reposing  ;  for  her  king — even  Christ,  with  whom  she 
had  been — he  is  the  sun.  We  are  all  by  nature  black ; 
to  the  very  core  the  complexion  of  our  heart,  our  life 
and  being,  is  black.  But  who  is  sensible  of  this  1  We 
perceive  not  our  blackness  and  sinfulness,  until  exposed 
to  the  radiance  of  the  Eternal  Sun  ;  until  the  effulgent 
glory  of  God's  presence  renders  our  darkness  apparent, 
and  the  light  of  his  Spirit  penetrating  the  gloom,  dis- 
covers to  us  the  dark  abyss  of  our  nature ;  then  we 
exclaim:  'I  am  black,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem  ; 
the  sun  has  looked  upon  me.'  How  was  it  with  Isaiah, 
when  he  found  himself  suddenly  near  this  sun,  and  saw 
the  Lord  sitting  upon  his  exalted  throne  ?  He  was  all 
at  once  so  black,  and  found  himself  so  unholy  and  so 
miserable,  that  he  began  to  tremble  at  himself,  and  be- 
fore God,  and  anxiously  exclaimed, '  Woe  is  me  !  I  am 
undone  ;  because  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips.'  WThat 
happened  to  Simon  Peter,  when  he  became  aware  that 
the  Day  Spring  from  on  high  was  with  him  in  his 
boat  ?  As  if  struck  by  lightning,  he  fell  at  Jesus'  feet, 
saying :  '  Depart  from  me ;  for  I  am  a  sinful  man, 
O  Lord  !' — that  is,  in  other  words,  '  I  am  black,  O 
ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem;  the  sun  has  looked 
upon  me.  And  when  the  Lord  looked  up  at  the 
publican  Zaccheus  in  the  sycamore  tree,  what  was  the 
first  impression  which  this  look  produced  1  The  pub- 


SERMON    III.  221 

lican  became  a  sinner,  became  black  in  his  own  eyes, 
black  as  an  Ethiopian,  and  began  to  make  confession  : 
( If  I  have  taken  any  thing  from  any  man  by  false  ac- 
cusation, I  return  him  four  fold.'  Thus  it  is  still :  when 
the  Lord  condescends  to  draw  near  to  us,  the  first  effect 
of  his  presence  is,  that  all  our  imagined  lustre  is  dis- 
pelled like  the  mist,  and  our  darkness  becomes  palpa- 
ble. The  sun  makes  us  black.  When  the  Lord  rends 
the  heavens,  and  comes  down  to  commune  with  a  child 
of  man,  and  to  establish  his  covenant  with  him,  the  im- 
mediate effect  is,  that  he  feels  himself  black,  and  knows 
his  misery.  And  be  assured  that  he  who  has  not  expe- 
rienced the  searching  power  of  that  Sun,  has  never  yet 
come  in  contact  with  the  Sun  itself ;  he  is  still  without ; 
not  even  having  taken  the  preliminary  steps  towards 
the  ratification  of  the  covenant. 

'  I  am  black,'  says  the  Bride.  From  whence  does 
this  confession  proceed  ?  Is  it  the  excessive  fervor  of 
a  first  repentance,  as  a  newly  awakened  sinner  ?  By  no 
means.  It  issues  from  her  secret  intercourse  with  the 
Lord,  from  a  state  of  grace,  and  from  the  chamber  of 
her  King ;  as  one  of  the  redeemed,  as  a  member  of  the 
kingdom.  And  she  is  still  black  ?  Yes — that  appears 
strange  to  many.  But  is  it  not  strange  to  him  who  has 
been  planted  in  the  same  soil  with  the  Bride,  and  who 
has  been  led  in  the  same  way  of  salvation ;  he  knows 
well  the  impossibility  of  living  in  the  communion  of  the 
great  Sun  of  Righteousness,  without*  daily  discovering 
in  himself,  by  means  of  the  bright  rays,  new  and  deeper 
shades  of  darkness  ;  that  by  means  of  communion  with 
Christ,  one  becomes  daily  blacker,  and  the  state  of  the 
soul,  as  it  is  by  nature,  appears  worse  every  day.  Those 


222  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

who  so  easily  and  rapidly  pass  over  into  a  state  of  glo- 
rying, on  account  of  their  progress  in  holiness,  cause  us 
at  least  to  suspect  that  they  do  not  sufficiently  walk  in 
the  light  of  Jacob,  nor  hold  close  communion  with  the 
Lord  himself.  It  arises  from  the  nature  of  the'  inter- 
course itself,  and  is  confirmed  by  the  experience  of  all 
the  saints,  that  the  more  unreserved  our  confidence  is 
in  the  Lord,  and  the  closer  our  intercourse  with  Him, 
the  more  comprehensive  will  be  our  perception  of  the 
depth  of  our  own  ruin.  Every  fresh  insight  into  the 
glory  of  Immanuel  becomes  a  torch,  to  display,  in  a 
clearer  light  the  greatness  of  our  depravity.  Every 
new  discovery  of  the  purity  of  his  nature  and  his  will, 
strengthens  the  consciousness  of  our  own  impurity. 
Every  new  communication  of  his  grace  will  be  a  coal 
of  fire  upon  our  head,  and  will  deepen  and  quicken  the 
feeling  of  our  own  un worthiness ;  and  every  new  ex- 
perience of  his  love  and  faithfulness  will  make  us  more 
painfully  sensible  of  the  absence  of  those  qualities  in 
ourselves,  and  of  the  coldness  of  our  hearts.  Thus,  in 
the  light  of  his  countenance,  we  shall  daily  discover 
deformities  and  stains,  which  we  have  hitherto  over- 
looked ;  daily  find  occasions  to  humble  ourselves  at  his 
feet,  and  devoutly  to  rejoice  that  our  wedding  garment 
has  long  been  woven  and  finished  for  us  ;  and  that  the 
blood  and  righteousness  of  Christ  are  abundantly  suffi- 
cient to  cover  us  before  the  judgment-seat  of  God.  Yes, 
only  be  and  walk  with  Christ,  and  have  fellowship  with 
Him,  and  I  will  warrant  you  that  to  the  end  of  your 
days  the  Shulamite's  confession  will  be  yours.  '  I  am 
black,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem  ;  the  sun  has  look- 
ed upon  me.} 


SERMON  ill.      •  223 

'  I  am  black.'  Black  is  the  Shulamite  in  her  own, 
and  black  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  '  Look  not  upon  me, 
because  I  am  black.'  Her  Sun  has  deprived  her  of 
her  natural  complexion,  and  has  made  her  dark.  What 
does  the  regenerated  soul  still  continue  to  bear  about 
her  of  all  the  world  calls  beautiful  and  delightful  ?  It 
has  all  faded  like  grass  in  the  heat  of  the  Sun  that 
shone  upon  her.  She  is  no  longer  seen  in  the  assem- 
blies of  her  former  associates ;  she  has  forsaken  the 
counsel  of  the  children  of  this  world,  in  which  she 
once  so  joyfully  participated ;  she  no  longer  relishes 
their  frivolous  jests,  and  can  contribute  nothing  to  their 
diversions.  She  no  longer  attaches  importance  to  ap- 
pearances and  dazzling  show.  Worldly  fashions,  and 
worldly  conviviality,  have  lost  their  charm,  and  world- 
ly views  and  opinions  their  hold  and  their  reality.  The 
doctrine  of  insufficiency  which  the  Shulamite  professes, 
which  strips  man  of  every  thing,  and  renders  him  desti- 
tute ;  the  air  of  conscious  sinftilness  she  bears  about 
with  her :  the  gravity  she  maintains ;  the  sharp  con- 
demnation of  unbelief  and  disregard  of  the  truth  ever 
on  her  lij  il  singing,  praying,  and  Bible- 

reading,  with  which  «0i«-  -JM -mis  hours,  and  even  days; 
oh  how  odious  and  disgustful  they  are  to  the  world,  and 
how  liberally  derision  and  abuse  are  showered  down 
upon  her.  She  is  slandered,  decried,  ridiculed  ;  and 
with  good  reason  may  she  exclaim, '  I  am  black,  O  ye 
daughters  of  Jerusalem' — black  in  the  estimation  of  the 
world  :  but  she  adds,  *  The  Sun  has  looked  upon  me" 
— in  this  she  rejoices,  and  lets  the  world  rage.  And 
were  she  also  black  through  crosses,  persecutions,  and 


224  SOLOMON    AND    THE    SHULAMITE. 

adversity ;  black  as  Job  found  himself  when  he  said, 
(  My  skin  is  black  upon  me  ;'  even  then  she  would  not 
waver,  but  would  remain  unshaken  in  her  confidence 
that  this  blackness  proceeded  likewise  from  her  Bride- 
groom, from  her  Sun. 

i  I  am  black.'  We  have  already  seen  the  more  obvi- 
ous and  general  meaning  of  the  Bride  in  these  words. 
But  perhaps  this  confession  may  likewise  have  its  origin 
in  a  peculiar  state  of  soul.  The  Christian  experiences, 
in  his  communion  with  the  Lord,  days  and  hours  in 
which,  so  to  speak,  and  to  all  appearance  he  ceases  to 
be  a  dark  moon,  and  breaks  forth  and  shines  with  all 
the  radiance  of  the  rising  sun ;  in  which  with  holy 
transport  he  soars  as  on  the  wings  of  a  young  eagle, 
and  would  even  seek  for  the  highest  walls,  in  order  to 
leap  over  them  with  his  God.  O  happy  state  !  How 
gladly  would  he  then  see  himself  surrounded  by  Anti- 
christ, and  all  the  powers  of  darkness,  that  he  might 
testify,  to  their  face,  of  Christ,  and  of  the  efficacy  of 
his  blood,  and  with  him  trample  them  under  his  feet ; 
how  joyfully  would  he  then  proclaim  aloud  from  the 
house-tops,  and  in  the  streets,  that  Christ  is  Lord,  to 
the  glory  of  the  Father !  How  sweetly  the  heart 
is  then  invigorated  to  the  fulfillment  of  every  command  ! 
With  what  intense  love,  with  what  ardent  devotion, 
the  soul  is  then  inflamed.  Faith  is  changed  into  sight ; 
we  not  merely  speak,  but  we  prophesy  and  sing  psalms ; 
and  the  mouth  becomes  an  inexhaustible  spring  of  evan- 
gelical wisdom  and  consolation.  We  are  ready  to  say 
with  David,  '  Lord,  thou  hast  made  my  mountain  to 
stand  fast ;  I  shall  never  be  moved  :"  and  we  already 


SERMON  III.  225 

triumphantly  exclaim,  "  the  eternal  hills  are  our  posses- 
sion." But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  exultation,  our  glo- 
ry becomes  suddenly  obscured.  The  daughter  of  Zion, 
that  had  been  exalted  to  heaven,  is  cast  down  to  the 
earth  again,  and  her  lustre  has  passed  away  like  a 
shadow.  No  sensible  supplies  of  grace  are  experienced, 
no  blissful  emotions  are  felt,  no  alacrity  of  spirit  elevates 
the  soul.  Prophesying  has  come  to  an  end ;  our  praises 
are  languid  ;  the  law  causes  us  again  to  labor  and  to 
be  heavy  laden :  and,  like  a  tree  deprived  of  its  leaves 
in  autumn,  all  the  splendor  in  which  we  had  for  a  time 
been  arrayed,  to  the  joy  and  astonishment  of  our  ac- 
quaintance has  been  stripped  off,  and  not  a  vestige  of 
its  beauty  remains.  Then,  again,  we  are  black ;  and 
the  daughters  of  Zion  behold  it,  and  compare  our  black- 
ness and  dimness  with  our  former  state  of  life.  Those 
who  are  but  partially  enlightened,  who  are  not  yet  able 
to  estimate  these  dealings  of  the  Lord,  will  view  it  as  a 
melancholy  relapse  into  our  former  state  of  nature — as 
a  sudden  separation  from  the  Lord,  and  from  his  love. 
But  Shulamite  may  say  to  them  with  confidence, <  Look 
not  upon  me  because  I  am  black :  the  Sun  has  looked 
upon  me.'  Do  not  judge  me  by  the  present  darkness 
of  my  appearance ;  be  not  deceived  by  the  sudden  bar- 
renness, stlipidity,  and  exhaustion,  which  have  come 
upon  me  ;  as  though  they  were  a  sign  that  the  union 
between  me  and  my  Sun  had  been  dissolved.  It  is  not 
the  absence  of  the  Sun,  but  his  nearness  and  the  fervid- 
ness  of  his  beams,  that  has  tinged  me  with  so  dark  a 
shade,  and  rendered  me  so  sterile  and  devoid  of  bright- 
ness. My  Bridegroom  has  himself  withdrawn  from 
20 


226  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

me  that  excess  of  spiritual  excitement  in  which  I  revel- 
led, that  I  might  not  be  high-minded,  but  fear ;  that  I 
might  not  forget  my  former  state  of  sin  and  misery,  and 
might  learn  to  trust  Him  for  his  word  alone,  without 
seeing  or  tasting  :  therefore  look  not  upon  me,  because 
I  am  black  ;  and  do  not  start  and  be  confounded :  be- 
lieve me  the  sun  has  looked  upon  me,  and  our  union  is 
as  firm  as  ever.' 

There  is  one  other  way  in  which  the  Lord  some- 
times makes  his  people  black.  To  promote  their  sal- 
vation, and  their  humility,  he  suffers  the  leprosy  of  sin 
still  lurking  in  their  breast,  to  break  forth  and  to  dis- 
play itself  outwardly,  that  they  may  not  remain  igno- 
rant of  its  existence.  On  this  point  much  might  be 
said  ;  but  as  there  may  be  some  amongst  you  who  can- 
not yet  bear  it,  and  who  might  be  led  by  it  into  lament- 
able errors,  we  will  pass  it  over  in  silence,  and  turn 
from  the  contemplation  of  the  Shulamite's  blackness,  to 
admire  her  comeliness. 

II. — '  I  am  black,'  says  the  Bride  *  but  comely.'  Black 
and  comely  at  the  same  time  ?  How  contradictory  ! 
And  yet  the  Shulamite  may  say  with  truth,  The  blacker 
I  am  in  my  own  eyes,  the  fairer  I  am  before  Him.  His 
love  to  us  is  in  proportion  to  our  self-knowledge,  and 
to  the  consciousness  of  our  sinfulness.  Do  we  se- 
riously complain  to  him  of  the  burden  of  one  sin,  he 
welcomes  our  approach.  Do  we  sigh  before  him,  con- 
fessing that  our  transgressions  are  more  in  number  than 
the  sands  upon  the  sea-shore,  he  views  us  with  increas 
ed  satisfaction.  But  do  we  reject  all  that  we  have  and 


SERMON  III.  227 

are,  as  vile  and  accursed,  and  appear  before  him  strip- 
ped of  all  self-righteousness,  then  we  are  most  pleasing 
in  his  si^ht.  There  is  but  one  complaint  he  cannot 
bear — the  complaint,  that  our  sins  are  too  great  to  be 
forgiven — for  that  is  the  suggestion  of  Satan,  who  seeks 
to  close  against  us  the  fountain  of  Christ's  blood,  and 
to  derogate  from  its  merits.  He  delights  in  the  pardon 
of  aggravated  sins,  and  finds  most  pleasure  in  the  cure 
of  the  severest  wounds,  and  in  the  removal  of  the  great- 
est afflictions ;  for  thus  his  love  and  mercy  are  most 
conspicuously  manifested,  and  the  renewed  soul  be- 
comes more  closely,  gratefully,  and  devotedly  united  to 
him.  If  the  cry  ascend  to  him,  from  a  thorough  con- 
viction of  our  misery,  that  we  are  nothing,  and  can  do 
nothing ;  oh,  how  willingly  does  he  hear  it !  His  hands 
hen  unbound,  the  work  is  his  alone — he  has  room 
to  display  his  wonders,  and  opportunity  to  shew  who 
he  is,  and  of  what  he  is  capable.  For  this  reason,  the 
blacker  we  are  in  our  estimation,  the  fairer  we  are  be- 
fore Him. 

'  I  am  black,  but  comely.'  In  what  sense  then,  is 
she  comely  ?  Comely  and  beautiful,  as  the  curtains  of 
Solomon.  Solomon's  curtains  may  have  been  costly 
and  magnificent ;  but  there  is  one  curtain  that  surpass- 
es every  other  in  splendor  and  beauty.  It  was  not  fash- 
ioned by  the  hand  of  man,  nor  can  it  be  imitated  by 
man.  It  is  the  work  of  the  Eternal  King,  who  wrought 
it  with  many  cries  and  tears.  This  curtain  is  the  only 
one  that  is  pure  in  the  sight  of  Him  before  whom  the 
heavens  are  not  clean,  and  who  chargeth  his  angels 
,  with  folly.  In  it  he  perceives  no  stain ;  and  so  won- 


228  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

derful  is  its  efficacy,  that  if  it  were  possible  for  Satan  to 
wrap  himself  in  it,  even  his  blackness  would  be  con- 
cealed from  the  searching  eye  of  Omnipotence..  It  was 
in  this  covering,  that  David,  Mary  Magdalene,  the  thief, 
and  every  other  sinner,  received  the  blessing  of  the 
Father,  and  have  been  raised  above  the  stars  in  the  fir- 
mament. And  Abraham  pleased  God,  for  no  other 
reason  than  because  he  was  clothed  with  this  golden 
mantle.  What  is  this  wonderful  covering  ?  It  is  the 
robe  of  salvation — the  righteousness  of  our  Surety, 
which  is  imputed  to  faith  by  grace.  For  if  we  are  in 
Christ,  sin  has  no  more  dominion  over  us,  as  the  Spirit 
testifies.  We  are  accounted  as  righteous  before  God, 
for  Jesus'  sake,  as  fully  as  though  we  really  were  so, 
because  he  was.  so  for  us — the  curse  and  condemnation 
are  removed,  for  they  have  been  sustained  by  us  in  the 
person  of  our  Surety  and  Substitute.  And  this  garment 
of  imputed  righteousness  is  not  circumscribed,  nor  inad- 
equate to  cover  all  our  sins ;  neither  is  it  of  so  thin  and 
loose  a  texture,  as  not  to  conceal  from  the  glance  of 
the  Almighty  every  stain  and  spot  upon  us.  Praise 
and  thanks  to  God !  This  garment  will  suffice  in  the 
day  of  judgement,  and  will  as  surely  bring  us  to  Jeru- 
salem, as  if  Solomon  himself  were  entering  the  city  in 
it.  Put  on,  then,  this  garment,  and  the  blessing  of  the 
Father  will  descend  upon  you ;  and  it  shall  be  said  of 
you  also,  '  Cursed  is  he  that  curseth  thee  !  Blessed  is 
he  that  blesseth  thee !'  Yes,  the  Shulamite  is  fair  and 
comely — comely  as  the  curtains  of  Solomon.  She  is 
arrayed  in  the  golden  vestments  of  the  king  himself — 
in  Solomon's  princely  apparel,  in  his  robe  of  righteous- 
ness. 


SERMON    III.  229 

But  within  also,  the  king's  daughter,  as  David  says? 
i>  all  glorious,  notwithstanding  her  blackness;  and  she 
is  not  only  comely,  as  the  curtains  of  Solomon,  but  also 
as  >he  herself  here  tells  us,  as  the  tents  of  Kedar.  The 
Kedarites  were  a  pastoral  people,  living  in  the  deserts 
of  Arabia ;  and  having  no  abiding  place,  they  roved 
from  pasture  to  pasture.  They  dwelt  in  light  huts,  or 
tents,  some  of  which  were  made  of  black  goat-skins, 
and  others  were  made  black  by  the  scorching  heat  of 
un.  Such  are  the  Kedarites  to  whom  the  Shula- 
mite  compares  herself.  In  the  first  place,  because  of 
her  blackness  ;  then,  with  reference  to  her  position  in 
the  rays  of  the  majestic  Sun,  and  to  her  walk  in  the 
light  of  Jacob,  and  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord.  But  by  it 
her  thoughts  are  chieily  directed  to  the  idea  of  '  Christ 
in  us  ;'  whilst,  in  the  curtains  of  Solomon,  her  eye  con- 
templates, moreover,  '  Christ  for  us.' 

Shul ami te,  a  Kedar-tent,  black  in  herself,  worthless 
and  unsightly,  and  burnt  by  the  sun — deformed  in  her 
own  eyes,  in  those  of  the  world,  and  beset  with  misery ; 
but  fair,  and  lovely,  and  highly  exalted — the  dwelling 
of  the  great  Shepherd,  the  glorious  Morning  Star,  to 
which  he  has  free  ingress  and  engress — the  place  of  his 
rest,  the  theatre  of  his  miracles,  where  all  his  wonder- 
ful works  are  made  manifest.  Christ  has  taken  posses- 
sion of  her,  and  extends  that  possession  continually. 
The  new  man  within  her  also  sighs,  longs,  and  strug- 
gles upwards — having  fallen  out  with  sin,  and  hating 
and  abhorring  it  in  every  form — weeping  and  mourning 
over  the  weakness  and  corruption  of  the  flesh,  feeling 
himself  forlorn,  a  stranger  in  the  world,  and  finding  no 
20* 


230  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

pleasure  in  its  ways  ;  but  loving,  praising,  singing,  and 
praying — behold  this  is  the  work  of  the  Lord,  fashioned 
in  his'  own  likeness,  and  without  weariness.  The  Lord 
is  ever  busied  within  her,  by  his  Spirit,  strengthening 
and  maturing  this  new  creation — in  mortifying,  weak- 
ening, and  destroying  the  old  Adam.  It  is  Christ,  who 
inwardly  chastens  the  Shulamite  and  consoles  her ;  who 
cheers  and  strengthens  her  ;  who  visits  her  with  whole- 
some affliction,  and  imparts  to  her  delightful  peace,  ex- 
actly as  the  case  requires.  May  she  not  therefore 
pronounce  herself  a  comely  tabernacle,  a  habitation  of 
the  Lord,  a  tent  which  her  Bridegroom  delights  to 
visit  ?  Thus  she  stands  there  with  the  door  wide  open, 
imploring  and  sighing ;  and  it  may  with  truth  be  said 
of  her,  (  Behold  a  tabernacle  of  the  Lord  among  men  ! 
O,  Israel,  where  is  there  a  people  so  glorious,  to  whom 
their  gods  are  so  near,  as  is  the  Lord  our  God  and  Sa- 
vior to  thee.' 

( I  am  comely  as  the  tents  of  Kedar  :'  this  comeliness 
consists,  lastly,  in  her  no  longer  following  her  own 
inclinations;  but  as  the  tents  .of  Kedar  are  borne  by 
the  shepherds,  so  is  she  borne  by  her  King,  removed 
and  placed  wherever  it  may  please  Him  and  His  love. 
She  is  no  longer  her  own,  but  her  faithful  Lord  and 
Savior's,  both  soul  and  body,  in  life  and  in  death.  She 
knows  herself  to  be  in  his  hands,  in  his  bosom ;  and  she 
willingly  surrenders  herself  to  his  guidance,  whether  he 
may  please  to  lead  her  into  green  pastures,  or  assign  her 
a  place  in  the  desert.  And  like  as  the  Kedarites  wan- 
der with  their  tents,  and  pitch  them  sometimes  in  one 
place,  and  sometimes  in  another  ;  she  also  is  aware  that 


SERMON  III. 


231 


slu-  is  a  stranger  in  the  world,  and  rejoices  in  the  know- 
ledge that  she  has  here  no  abiding  city,  but  seeks,  with 
earnest  longing,  that  which  is  to  come,  and  contem- 
plates the  time  with  joyful  hope,  when  her  King  shall 
entirely  destroy  her  earthly  tabernacle,  and  assigns  her 
one  all-glorious  and  beautiful.  Yes,  thou  art  black 
thou  bride  of  the  Lord  ;  but  we  will  not  look  upon  thee 
because  thou  art  black,  for  the  Sun  has  made  thee  so. 
Thou  art  likewise  fair  and  comely  ;  comely  as  the  cur- 
tains of  Solomon,  and  as  the  tents  of  Kedar. 

111. — Let  us  now  attend  to  what  the  Bride  has  fur- 
ther to  relate  :  *  My  mother's  children,'  she  says,  *  were 
angry  with  me;  they  made  me  keeper  of  the  vine- 
Nan  Is  ;  but  my  own  vineyard  have  I  not  kept.'  By  her 
mother's  children,  she  means  the  children  of  the  king- 
dom, who  journeyed  with  her  on  the  same  road,  and 
participated  with  her  in  the  same  spiritual  privileges ; 
but  whose  walk  in  the  light  of  Jacob  had  been  of  too 
short  duration,  and  their  experience  in  Divine  things 
too  limited,  for  them  to  conceive  that  a  life  in  God 
could  be  a  concealed  one,  full  of  godly  activity,  but  de- 
void of  all  exterior  splendor.  A  child  of  God  in  a  state 
of  dejection  was  to  them  as  yet  an  incomprehensible 
mystery.  Now  it  appears  to  me,  that  it  may  have  been 
precisely  such  a  state  of  apparent  dejection  and  barren- 
ness, in  \vhich  they  discovered  the  Shulamite  to  be. 
She,  whom  they  had  known  as  so  highly  a  gifted,  joy- 
ful witness  to  the  truth ;  whose  distinguished  and 
effective  course  apparently  resembled  that  of  a  pro- 
phetess ;  who  had  been  as  a  light  shining  in  a  dark 


232  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

place,  inexhaustibly  rich  in  sententious  wisdom,  in 
awakening  addresses,  in  feeling  effusions  and  fervent 
prayers  ;  who  understood  how  to  make  all  hearts  over- 
flow with  living  waters,  to  melt  them  into  sacred  emo- 
tions, and  to  hurry  them  from  one  fragrant  eminence  to 
another; — she,  who  had  only  lived  for  the  brethren  and 
their  communion  ;  who  had  hastened  from  assembly  to 
assembly,  there  to  pour  forth  her  treasures ;  who  had 
devoted  all  her  energies  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  and 
from  morning  to  evening,  with  the  most  flaming  zeal, 
had  thought  of  nothing  but  converting,  edifying, 
strengthening,  rousing,  and  comforting  the  brethren ; 
and  in  the  performance  of  all  which  she  had  been  so 
conspicuous ; — behold,  how  suddenly  she  is  overcome ! 
This  overflowing  spring,  how  suddenly  is  it  exhausted ; 
this  rose,  so  recently  blooming  and  redolent,  how 
quickly  has  it  lost  its  beauty  and  its  fragrance.  Be- 
hold, the  Shulamite's  fire  is  extinguished,  her  zeal  cool- 
ed, her  sensibility  dried  up  ;  her  evangelizing  spirit, 
how  dead ;  her  mouth  closed  ;  her  carriage,  how  con- 
strained, reserved,  and  unsocial !  The  sisters  see  it  with 
sorrow ;  they  are  heartily  grieved  to  have  no  further 
communion  with  their  friend.  Yes,  they  even  behold  it 
with  indignation,  for  in  this  transformation  they  per- 
ceive nothing  less  than  an  entire  relapse  into  a  state  of 
nature.  Alas  !  to  her  own  sisters  she  has  become,  not 
only  a  riddle  but  a  vexation.  Yet  so  far  from  having 
fallen  away,  or  from  having  departed  from  the  school  of 
her  Lord  and  Master,  she  has  been  elevated  by  him  to 
a  higher  class  in  this  school,  where  she  shall  learn  to 
believe  without  seeing  or  tasting,  and  with  Asaph  to 


SERMON  III.  233 

• 

desire  nothing  in  the  world  but  God  :  that  though  heart 
and  flesh  may  fail,  yet  to  rejoice  and  be  in  perfect 
peace — not  as  arising  from  any  subordinate  communi- 
cations from  the  Lord,  but  because  he  is  himself  the 
strength  of  her  heart,  and  her  eternal  portion.  With 
these  things  her  sisters  were  not  then  acquainted. 
Their  inward  light  was  too  faint  for  them  to  perceive 
in  the  change  that  had  passed  on  Shulamite,  in  her  ex- 
ternal sterility  and  blackness,  the  pure  benevolent  dis- 
ciple of  the  Lord,  the  guidance  of  the  most  faithful  of 
all  shepherds.  They  imagined  it  to  proceed  from  very 
different  causes,  and  Shulamite  could  not  please  them : 
'  My  mother's  children  were  angry  with  me.' 

And  what  would  they  now  in  their  folly  do  with  her  ? 
They  would  make  her  keeper  of  their  vineyards  ;  that 
is,  they  would  attract  her  back  to  the  scene  of  use- 
fulness, activity,  and  tumult,  in  which  they  so  greatly 
delighted  :  in  their  kind  but  blind  zeal,  they  would 
have  her  re-assume  their  favorite  form  and  aspect  of 
Christian  life,  and  thus  interfere,  uncalled,  in  the  work 
of  the  Lord  :  and  behold  they  succeeded,  at  least  for  a 
short  time.  The  Shulamite  yielded,  and  the  Lord  per- 
mitted it.  <  They  made  me  the  keeper  of  the  vine- 
yards.' 

The  experience  of  the  Shulamite  has,  in  various 
ways,  been  that  of  many.  Do  you  inquire  how? 
Listen  :  Is  a  man  a  Christian,  has  he  bid  adieu  to  the 
world,  and  does  he  live  to  God  ?  Is  he  enlightened, 
rich  in  experience,  and  by  the  brethren  accounted  faith- 
ful, sincere,  active,  and  qualified  ;  they  at  once  begin  to 
calculate  how  he  may  be  made  useful.  He  is  asked  to 


234         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

• 

preach  in  one  place,  in  another  to  direct  some  society ; 
business  and  labor  are  heaped  upon  him,  and  he  is  expect- 
ed to  undertake  whatever  is  offered  to  his  management. 
He  submits  ;  though  it  may  often  be  more  from  a  carnal 
than  a  sanctified  spirit :  for  how  can  he  refuse  the 
brethren,  particularly  as  their  requests  are  confined  to 
sacred  things.  His  occupation  begins  and  ends  but 
with  the  day ;  he  is  so  active,  so  clever,  does  every 
thing  so  well,  that  he  is  praised  and  encouraged  from 
all  sides,  till  it  becomes  his  delight.  Thus  he  is  inces- 
santly engaged  in  the  work  of  the  Lord.  He  preaches, 
exhorts,  expounds  the  Scriptures  to  the  brethren,  prays 
with  them,  relates  to  them  the  passing  events  of  the 
kingdom  of  God,  superintends  their  societies,  and  does 
a  thousand  other  things.  That  all  this  is  good  and 
praiseworthy  in  itself,  who  will  deny  ?  Yet,  before  he 
is  aware,  his  own  heart,  with  its  \vants,  has  been  lost 
sight  of;  his  secret,  healthful  intercourse  with  the  Lord 
is  interrupted,  and  the  desire  for  it  gradually  extinguish- 
ed ;  as  if  the  soul  had  been  satiated  with  this  external 
employment :  but  when  God  in  his  mercy  restores  light 
to  the  mind  of  the  believer,  he  is  constrained  to  join  in 
the  complaint  of  the  Shulamite :  f  They  made  me  keep- 
er of  the  vineyards  ;  but  my  own  vineyard  have  I  not 
kept.' 

But  it  is  asked,  was  it  in  this  way  that  Shulamite 
likewise  forgot  her  vineyard  7  I  answer  No.  She 
found  herself  in  very  different  circumstances ;  and  I  will 
endeavor  to  describe  them.  The  sun  has  burnt  us, 
when  we  have  lost  the  sensible  tokens  of  God's  grace, 
and  feel  ourselves  deprived  of  the  consolation,  peace. 


SERMON  III.  235 

and  hope  which  had  been  our  confidence  and  rejoicing, 
and  cast  into  a  barren  land.  What  the  love  of  God  de- 
signs by  such  seemingly  hard  dealings  with  his  faithful 
people,  is  well  known.  Our  associates  mark  the 
change ;  they  are  displeased  that  our  glory  has  passed 
away,  that  our  beauty  is  so  faded.  They  are  angry 
with  us,  and  even  apprehensive  that  we  have  fallen 
from  grace.  Our  mortification  is  deep,  we  cannot  bear 
! I ir  suspicion;  and  consequently, strain  every  nerve  to 
re-instate  ourselves  in  our  former  condition.  We  again 
put  ourselves  forward,  but  the  Lord  has  not  called ;  we 
again  attempt  to  prophesy,  but  the  Spirit  is  not  with  us ; 
we  seek  again  to  appear  as  one  of  the  anointed,  but 
our  oil  is  consumed ;  we  wish  to  warm  others,  but  our 
own  fire  is  extinguished.  In  short,  instead  of  bowing 
before  the  Lord,  and  awaiting,  in  prayerful  submission, 
the  return  of  his  pentecostal  breathing,  we  try  to  sail 
with  an  adverse  wind ;  we  try  the  oars  of  our  natural 
strength,  and  resolve  to  supply  the  deficiency  of  Divine 
inspiration  from  our  own  resources  ;  to  take  again  upon 
our  own  shoulders  the  work  which  Christ  reserves  for 
himself  alone ;  and,  instead  of  drawing  water  from  the 
Rock  that  follows  us,  to  force  it  from  the  barren  sandy 
waste  of  our  own  nature.  Our  state  is  lamentable ; 
we  are  separated  from  the  Lord,  and  have  strayed  into, 
and  lost  ourselves  in,  a  maze  of  presumptuous  self-will 
and  self-prescribed  performances.  And  if  the  Lord 
again  open  our  eyes,  we  must  judge  ourselves,  and 
complain,  in  the  language  of  the  Bride,  '  They  have 
made  me  keeper  of  the  vineyards  ;  but  my  own  vine- 
yard have  I  not  kept.'  Instead  of  abiding  in  union  with 


236  SOLOMON  AND   THE   SHULAMITE. 

the  Lord,  enjoying  his  favor,  and  participating  in  the 
abundant  fulness  of  his  vineyard  ; — instead  of  remain- 
ing at  the  Fountain  of  life,  and  surrendering  myself 
like  a  child  to  the  guidance  of  Jesus,  I  have  lost  myself 
in  the  dark  wilderness  of  self-prescribed  duties,  estrang- 
ed from  God. 

Let  us  here  conclude.  My  brethren,  when  after  the 
Babylonish  captivity  the  city  of  Jerusalem  had  been 
rebuilt,  Nehemiah  gave  this  command  ;  c  Let  not  the 
gates  of  Jerusalem  be  opened,  until  the  sun  is  hot !' 
This  command  is  spiritually  in  force  to  this  day.  Jeru- 
salem is  opened  to  no  one,  till  the  Eternal  Sun  of  the 
universe  has  shed  his  heat  upon  him ;  till  he  has  be- 
come black  in  his  own  eyes.  Oh  that  each  one  amongst 
us,  who  now  accounts  himself  fair  and  beautiful,  may 
soon,  from  a  deep  and  thorough  conviction  of  his  mise- 
ry, be  able  to  declare  with  Shulamite,  c  I  am  black,  0 
ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem  !  Not  .that  he  should  then 
attempt  to  purify  himself:  the  Ethiopian  cannot  change 
his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots;  but  may  .he  experi- 
ence the  royal  purifying  power  of  Him  who  clothes  all 
his  children  in  white  robes.  May  the  Eternal  King  be 
with  us  all ;  may  He  encircles  us  in  his  golden  mantle, 
and  make  us  comely  as  the  tents  of  Kedar.  Amen. 


SERMON  IV. 


SOLOMON'S  SONG  vin.  6 — 7. 

Set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thy  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  thine  arm  :  for 
love  is  strong  as  death  ;  jealousy  is  cruel  as  the  grave :  the 
coals  thereof  are  coals  of  fire,  which  hath  a  most  vehement 
flame.  Many  waters  cannot  quench  love,  neither  can  the 
floods  drown  it. 

THE  words  we  are  about  to  consider,  are  not  those  of 
the  Bridegroom,  Christ ;  but  of  the  Bride,  the  awaken- 
ed believing  soul.  She  begs  her  heavenly  Friend  to 
preserve  her  still  in  his  love  ;  and  at  the  same  time  re- 
lates, in  few  but  in  expressive  terms,  the  nature  of 
Christ's  love. 

Let  us  then  consider,  in  reference  to  the  text,  the 
love  of  Christ  to  sinners.     Let  us  contemplate  it : — 
I.  As  a  great  and  free  love. 
II.  As  a  strong  love. 

IE.  As  a  jealous  love. 

IV.  As  a  faithful  love. 

I. — '  Set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine  heart,  as  a  seal  up- 
on thine  arm.'  These  aspirations  of  the  Shulamite 
appear,  indeed,  to  be  lofty ;  but  in  what  do  they  exceed, 
in  extent  or  magnitude,  what  the  Savior  continually 
does  for  sinners  without  their  solicitation  1  He  sets 
them  as  a  seal  upon  his  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  his  arm. 
21 


238  SOLOMON   AND    THE    SHULAMITE. 

The  Savior's  heart  is  the  inexhaustible  source  of  all 
love.  If  but  the  smallest  drop  from  this  fountain  enters 
the  human  heart,  it  immediately  dilates  and  overflows 
with  love.  Witness  its  surprising  effects  on  Abraham  ; 
the  love  of  God  in  him  absorbed  the  love  of  nature, 
and  stretched  his  arm  to  offer  his  beloved,  his  only  son, 
a  sacrifice  to  the  Loro1.  What  a  noble  display  of  it  in 
David  ! — when  with  a  love  contrary  to  nature,  and  ele- 
vated high  as  the  heavens  above  it,  he  wept  the  death 
of  Saul,  his  mortal  enemy,  and  broke  out  in  bitter  la- 
mentations, that  the  shield  of  the  mighty  had  been  cast 
vilely  away,  as  though  he  had  not  been  anointed. 
Behold  it  in  Moses ! — when  in  the  desert  he  cried  unto 
the  Lord  :  '  Oh  this  people  have  sinned  a  great  sin ;  yet 
now,  if  thou  wilt  forgive  their  sin — if  not,  blot  me,  I 
pray  thee,  out  of  thy  book  which  thou  hast  written.' 
What  amazing  love  !  Hear  the  prayer  of  Stephen  ! — 
stoned  by  his  enemies,  and  prostrated  on  the  earth,  with 
his  last  breath,  he  cries  to  heaven  :  '  Lord,  lay  not  this 
sin  to  their  charge.'  Behold  a  Paul! — renouncing 
joyfully  all  the  advantages  and  pleasures  which  the 
world  has  to  offer,  suffering  ignominy  and  persecution, 
scourging  and  stoning,  imprisonment  and  chains,  and 
not  even  counting  his  life  dear  unto  himself,  that  he 
might  bring  the  Balm  of  Gilead  to  his  brethren,  who 
were  sitting  in  the  shadow,  of  death.  The  love  of  these 
men  was  astonishingly  great !  Who  can  utter  all  the 
purity  and  faithfulness,  the  height,  length,  breadth,  and 
depth  of  such  love  ?  And  yet  it  was  but  a  small  drop 
from  that  ocean  of  love  which  flows  in  the  heart  of 
Christ. 

But  who  can  declare  the  love  of  Jesus  ?     By  what 


u.MON  IV.  239 

/ 

standard  shall  it  be  estimated,  in  what  Language  can  it 
be  expre>sed  I  Tin.- re  is  nothing  with  which  it  can  be 
compared  ;  the  boldest  imagination  cannot  grasp  it.  It 
is  a  depth,  into  which  angelic  spirits  look  adoringly 
down,  but  cannot  fathom;  an  height,  to  which  the 
thoughts  of  a  seraphim  cannot  attain.  As  he  himself 

1  ren  loved  by  the  Father  from  all  eternity,  in  the 
.mil  degree  does  he  love  all  who  are  the 
objects  of  his  iv^.ml.  No  mind  can  comprehend,  no 
imagination  conceive,  the  love  of  Christ ;  it  surpasses 
all  knowledge  and  all  thought.  And  his  power,  like  his 
love,  is  boundless,  unsearchable,  incomprehensible. 
Obedient  to  his  will,  the  waves  of  the  Red  Sea  mount- 
ed into  a  heap  like  a  wall  of  crystal ;  at  his  command 

H  >lid  rock  became  a  fountain  of  waters  ;  the  impreg- 
nable walls  of  Jericho  fell  down  at  the  sound  of  a 
trumpet,  and  the  sun  stood  still  in  the  firmament ;  with 
a  word  he  restored  life  to  corruption,  and  called  the 
dead  out  of  their  graves  :  and  this  was  but  a  small  dis- 
play of  his  power,  a  trifle  for  his  gigantic  arm.  Did  he 
he  not  call  a  world  into  existence  out  of  nothing,  and 
command  that  to  be  which  was  not,  and  it  stood  forth  ? 
Did  not  his  arm  plant  Orion  in  the  heavens,  and  group 
the  Plaeiades  ?  And  \  ei  we  have  seen  but  a  shadow  of 
his  power  !  He  can  create  and  do  his  pleasure ;  as 
the  Scriptures  declare,'  All  power  is  given  him,  in  hea- 
ven and  on  earth.'  Oh  who  can  measure  the  power  of 
his  arm?  His  arm  is  like  his  heart,  his  power  like  his 
love.  We  have  attempted  a  faint  description  of  them, 
but  the  thunder  of  his  power  who  can  understand  ? 

And  who  are  the  recipients  of  this  love,  and  for  whom 
is  this  mighty  power  revealed  ?     In  general  it  is  simi- 


240  SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

larity  of  taste  or  disposition  that  attracts  men  to  each 
other,  and  forms  the  bond  of  union  between  them.  But 
the  love  of  Jesus  is  guided  by  other  rules.  It  was  not 
the  angels  and  cherubim,  who  were  the  exclusive  ©b^ 
jects  of  his  love :  '  He  took  not  on  him  the  nature  of 
angels,'  says  St.  Paul ;  it  was  not  the  just,  the  virtuous, 
the  noble,  the  wise,  the  mighty,  and  the  great,  after  the 
flesh,  that  he  sought  to  bear  them  on  his  heart;'  for  his 
love  is  the  love  of  sinners-,  and  his  arm  is  stretched  forth 
to  the  miserable.  It  was  for  us,  the  children  of  death, 
that  the  bowels  of  his  mercy  yearned  from  all  eternity, 
and  for  whom  his  heart  burned  with  infinite  tenderness. 
How  wondrous  that  love,  which  could  impel  the  Sove- 
reign of  the  universe  to  lay  aside  his  glory,  and  in  the 
form  of  sinful  flesh  to  descend  into -this  dark  valley  of 
tears !  A  love  which  prompted  him  to  assume  our 
griefs,  the  whole  Weight  and  curse  of  our  iniquities  !  A 
love,  which  moved  Him  to  become  the  most  despised 
and  vile  amongst  the  children  of  men,  to  humble  him- 
self even  unto  death,  and  to  shed  his  blood  upon  the 
cross !  What  an  amazing  love !  And  yet  it  was  a  love 
for 'sinners,  and  for  sinners  only.  It  was  not  for  angels, 
but  for  thee  and  me,  my  dear  brethren,  that  he  submit- 
ted to  be  thus  straightened.  The  poor  sinner  is  the  ob- 
ject of  his  love,  the  curse-stricken  earth  the  theatre  of 
its  display,  and  the  deadened  heart  the  subject  on  which 
it  operates.  And  wherever  he  has  revealed  himself  in 
the  world,  he  has  revealed  himself  as  one  compassion- 
ating the  miserable,  reclaiming  the  wanderer,  and  as 
the  sinner's  friend.  Such  is  the  heart  of  Jesus  :  and  his 
arm,  his  power,  is  wielded  by  this  heart,  by  this  love  of 
sinners.  He  has  ever  acted  and  governed  in  the  world, 


SERMON    IV.  241 

as  it'  he  possessed  his  power  solely  for  the  deliverance, 
the  salvation  of  sinners.  For  them  he  vanquished  hell, 
and  trampled  Satan  under  his  feet.  For  them  he  con- 
quered death,  and  burst  the  bands  of  the  grave ;  and 
all  that  he  has  done,  or  is  daily  performing,  is  designed 
to  accomplish  the  salvation  of  sinners.  What  do  we 
need  more  ?  His  heart  is  for  us ;  his  power  is  for  us. 
He  lives  not  for  himself,  he  lives  for  sinners.  In  this 
we  rejoice  ! 

But  there  is  one  peculiarity  in  his  love,  at  the  thought 
of  which  we  should  humble  ourselves  in  the  dust,  and 
devoutly  adore.  In  what  manner,  under  what  condi- 
tions, and  at  what  period,  do  you  imagine  it  to  be,  that 
he  receives  the^sinner  to  his  love  ?  Some  of  you,  per- 
haps, may  be  ready  to  reply  ;  When  the  sinner  begins 
to  think  about  a  reformation,  then  Jesus  also  begins  to 
love.  But  I  say,  No ;  He  loves  him  before.  But,  per- 
haps, it  commences  when  the  sinner  sincerely  begins 
to  inquire  after  and  seek  the  way  of  life  ?  No  ! — long 
before  these  sincere  desires  arise  in  the  sinner,  he  has 
been  loved  by  Him  who  both  imparts  the  will  and  per- 
fects the  good  within  him.  Behold  the  Lord  sets  the 
sinner  as  a  seal  upon  his  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  his  arm ! 
and  this  is  something  unspeakably  great !  What  is  a 
seal  ?  It  is  the  clear,  perfect  impression  of  a  figure  en- 
graven upon  a  seal,  or  signet  ring.  When  therefore  it 
is  said,  that  the  Lord  Jesus  sets  the  sinner  as  a  seal  upon 
his  heart,  it  can  only  mean,  that  he  takes  a  true  and 
perfect  impression  of  the  sinner.  He  takes  his  true 
figure  as  a  ruined,  lost  creature,  with  all  the  marks  of 
sin  broadly  and  clearly  impressed  upon  him ;  and  when 
it  is  further  said,  he  sets  him  as  a  seal  upon  his  arm,  it 


242  '          SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

means,  that,  before  any  good  is  in  the  sinner,  the  arm  of 
the  Lord  is  promised,  and  extended  for  his  relief;  that 
for  his  salvation,  the  power  and  love  of  Jesus  are  united. 
And  thus  it  really  is!  Yes,  believe  it,  before  a  spark 
of  the  new  life  had  been  kindled  within  you,  before  the 
smallest  change  had  taken  place,  you.  were  already  re- 
ceived to  the  love  of  Jesus  ;  for  how  had  you  otherwise 
become  converted  and  believing,  had  not  the  sustaining 
love  of  Him  who  is  the  author  and  finisher  of  faith, 
been  previously  imparted  to  you  1  For.  that  you  have 
not  converted  yourself,  you  are  perfectly  convinced. 
Every  one,  who  has  undergone  this. change,  confesses 
with  deep  humiliation:  I  have  not  chosen  thee,  but 
thou  hast  chosen  me.  .  When  you  were  still  in  your  in- 
iquities, and  entertained  not  the  most  distant  thought  of 
submitting  your  heart  to  God,  even  then  the  Savior's 
love  had  sought  you  out.  He  had  placed  you  as  a  seal 
upon  his  heart — that  is,  you  had  become  the  object  of 
.his  merciful  love ;  your  image,  with  all  the  stains  of 
ski  upon  it,  was  impressed  upon  his  heart ;  and  when 
you  really  were  converted  to  the  Lord,  then  his  arm 
executed  in  you  the  eternal  counsels  of  his  love.  Yes, 
on  every  one  who  is  born  again,  the  words  of  our  Lord 
are  fulfilled :  f  I  have  loved  thee — not  from  the  moment 
of  thy  conversion — but  I  have  loved  thee  with  an  ever- 
lasting love;  therefore  with  loving  kindness  have  I 
drawn  thee.'  In  thine  iniquities  have  I  loved  thee ;  as  a 
sinner  weil  thou.  engraven  on  my  heart.  I  set  thee  as 
a  seal  upon  my  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  my  arm ;  before 
thou  calledst,  I  heard  and  answered  thee.  Behold  thi§ 
is  the  great,  the  free  love  of  our  Surety  ! 


SERMON  IV.  243 

II. — And  in  the  same  degree  that  this  love  is  great, 
free,  and  unconditional,  it  is  likewise  strong  and  power- 
ful. But  how  strong  1  Strong,  says  the  Shulamite,.as 
death.  What  a  striking  similitude  !  Yes,  strong  as 
death — we  have  ourselves  experienced  it  Who  can 
withstand  death  ?  With  invincible  power  he  wields  his 
sceptre  over  all  flesh — the  strongest  he  casts  to  the 
earth,  the  most  mighty  become  his  prey. 

And  who  can  resist  the  love  of  Christ,  when  it  goes 
forth  towards  the  sinner,  and  casts  its  net  around  him  ? 
A  Saul  tried,  but  found  it  vain  to  kick  against  the 
pricks ;  the  Samaritan  woman  was  not  long  able  to 
strive  against,  and  to  evade  it ;  and  Nathaniel,  in  spite 
of  his  conviction  that  nothing  good  could  come  out  of 
Nazareth,  was  soon  obliged  to  confess  :  *  Rabbi,  Thou 
art  the  son  of  God ;  Thou  art  the  King  of  Israel !'  The 
jailer  likewise,  with  his  heart  subdued,  fell  down,  and 
anxiously  sighed :  '  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  V  And 
the  heathen  centurion  was  constrained  to  exclaim : 
k  Truly  this  was  the  son  of  God.'  Yes,  strong  as  death 
is  the  love  that  seeks  sinners,  who  can  resist  it !  It  pur- 
sues the  sinner,  who  is  its  object,  through  all  his  devious 
courses ;  it  follows  him  into  the  stillness  of  the  closet, 
into  the  bustle  of  the  world,  in  the  midst  of  dissipation, 
and  on  the  seat  of  the  scorner ;  it  presses  upon  him  in 
every  way,  till  his  heart  is  .vanquished,  and  he  is  res- 
cued from  the  paths  of  death.  How  long,  my  breth- 
ren, did  we  not  strive  against  its  assaults,  and  seek  to 
escape  the  net ;  how  long  did  not  we  close  our  ears 
against  its  call,  and,  as  it  were*,  struggle  not  to  be  over- 
come. But  behold,  has  it  not  been  too  strong  for  us  ? 
Has  it  not  at  last  subdued  and  made  us  captive  ?  Yes, 


244  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

God  be  praised  !  it  has  also  broken  our  hard  and  obdu- 
rate hearts,  and  notwithstanding  our  resistance,  has 
forced  us  into  the  bonds  of  the  covenant !  God  be 
thanked  for  ever,  we  have  ourselves  experienced,  that 
his  love  is  strong  as  death  !  Who  can  resist  it  ? 

Love  is  strong  as  death.  Does  not  death  separate 
man  from  this  world  and  its  concerns  ?  Does  it  not 
snatch  him  away  from  all  that  is  earthly  and  transitory  ? 
And  behold,  the  love  of  Christ  does  the  same.  No 
sooner  is  its  influence  felt  upon  the  soul — no  sooner  are 
we  participatingly  assured  of  its  possession,  and  able  to 
say  with  Paul :  I  also  have  obtained  mercy — than  we 
bid  the  world  farewell ;  its  pleasures  become  embittered, 
its  waters  turbid  and  vapid ;  for  we  now  drink  from 
other  fountains  ;  and  in  places  where  we  were  formerly 
at  home,  we  now  feel  ourselves  strangers,  uneasy  and 
oppressed.  Oh,  how  wonderful  the  change  which 
passes  on  the  heart,  as  soon  as  it  hears  the  Lord  call  it 
by  name,  and  the  words,  i  Thou  art  mine !'  vibrate 
within  it.  Then  a  Magdalene  quickly  casts  awray  her 
follies,  and  becomes  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord.  Then 
a  Paul  esteems  all  that  he  had  accounted  gain,  as  loss 
and  dung,  and  is  Christ's  alone.  Then  we  willingly 
abandon  honor  and  pleasure,  fame,  applause,  and  what- 
ever else  the  world  has  to  offer,  and  follow  Christ.  Yes, 
the  love  of  Jesus  is  strong  as  death.  Wherever  it  is 
unfolded,  felt  and  experienced,  it  separates  the  man, 
heart  and  soul,  from  the  wrorld  and  its  trifles.  Then 
Abraham  can  no  longer  dwell  in  Ur,  Lot  in  Sodom,  nor 
Moses  at  the  court  of  Egypt.  The  heart  pants,  and 
struggles  to  be  liberated ;  we  weigh  the  anchor  and 
launch  from  the  shore  of  this  world.  The  love  of  Jesus 


SERMON  IV.  245 

is  strong' as  death.  With  the  destructive  energy  of 
death,  and  as  the  fire  of  lightning,  it  assails  the  old 
man  within  us.  Where  the  love  of  Jesus  is  perceived, 
and  his  grace  experienced,  there  also  is  a  constant  in- 
ward dying,  an  incessant  consuming ;  there  the  old 
Adam  lies  in  the  flames  that  will  burn  him  to  ashes. 
Oh,  it  is  hard  to  confess,  that  our  sins  have  caused  the 
Lord  of  Glory  to  shed  his  blood  upon  the  cross — that 
our  sins  have  occasioned  all  his  humiliation  and  suffer- 
ing !  How  inconceivably  mortifying  is  the  conviction, 
that  we  must  be  received  to  his  arms  and  to  his  love, 
as  the  vilest  of  sinners !  it  degrades  us  in  the  dust  of 
self-abasement,  and  overwhelms  us  with  shame  and 
disgrace  ;  while  it  renders  a  life  after  the  flesh  distaste- 
ful and  disgusting.  With  the  consciousness :  I  have 
obtained  mercy;  pride  cannot  rear  its  head;  avarice 
cannot  thrive  ;  lust  cannot  spring  up  ;  that  is  impossi- 
ble ;  for  where  the  love  of  Christ  takes  possession  of 
the  soul,  there  it  is  as  death,  destructive  as  the  fire  of 
brimstone,  and  pestilence,  to  the  old  man. 

III. — And  behold,  to  the  strength  of  death,  the  love 
of  Christ  to  sinners  unites  the  firmness  of  hell.*  Its  fer- 
vor, says  the  Shulamite,  is  unchanging  as  the  grave;  and 
our  hearts  should  gratefully  respond — *  God  be  praised  !' 
The  Shulamite  speaks  with  force  and  power,  but  with 
truth  and  beauty.  It  is  as  she  has  said.  The  love  of 
Jesus  to  the  elect  is  a  zealous,  ardent,  yea,  and  a  jealous 

*  This  is  a  Jiteral  rendering  of  the  author's  words,  who  has  of 
course  followed  the  idea  conveyed  by  Lulher'i  translating  the  word 
wp  by  '  firm,'  which  is,  perhaps,  more  correct  than  •  cruel,'  aa  the 
English  version  has  it. — ED- 


246  SOLOMON   AND    THE    SHULAMITE. 

love.  It  encircles  its  object  with  a  firmness  so  immoveable 
and  undeviating,  that  the  idea  of  surrender  on  its  part,  is 
as  little  to  be  entertained  as  that  of  a  surrender  of  the 
lost  on  the  part  of  hell.  Though  on  earth  Satan  must 
renounce  his  prey  at  the  bidding  of  the  Lion  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah ;  but  if  he  have  dragged  it  down  into  the 
bottomless  pit,  the  gates  are  closed,  and  none  shall  open 
them.  Hell  asserts  its  rights  and^its  possessions.  No 
sighs,  no  grief,  can  move  it ;  no  tears,  or  lamentations 
of  the  damned ;  it  holds  them  in  its  gloomy  caverns 
with  stern,  inexorable  cruelty,  and  the  smoke  of  their 
torments  ascends  for  ever  and  ever.  And  such  is  the 
constancy  of  the  love  of  Christ.  The  Lord  Jesus  keeps 
what  he  has.  '  My  sheep  are  mine'  he  says, e  and  none 
shall  pluck  them  out  of  my  hand  .'  Should  the  devil, 
the  accuser,  appear,  and  claim  the  sinner  as  his  own ; 
should  he  heap  every  deadly  sin  upon  his  head  ;  should 
Moses  arise,  and  call  upon  the  Lord  to  condemn  the 
despiser  of  his  laws ;  should  even  the  angels  of  God 
cry  together,  Away  with  him  !  the  thief  is  not  fit  for 
Paradise  ! — what  could  it  avail  ?  For  if  he  has  once 
taken  the  sinner  to  his  heart,  his  love  is  firm  as 
hell.  And  whether  it  were  Satan,  Moses,  or  the 
angels,  his  answer  would  be, :  '  Away  with  you  all.' 
I  will  have  mercy  on  whom  I  will  have  mercy.  His 
love  is  an  unyielding  .love  :  it  never  relinquishes  what 
it  has  once  adopted.  It  turned  the  lost  son  from  the 
husks  of  the  swine-troughs,  from  the  seat  of  the  scorn- 
er  and  the  profane.  It  followed  Solomon  into  the  tem- 
ples of  Satan,  into  the  assemblies  of  heathen  women, 
and  the  dwellings  of  lewdness  :  yes,  it  pursued  him 
even  to  the  altars  of  strange  gods,  and  rested  not  till  it 


SERMON  IV.  247 

a 

had  reclaimed  him.  Such  is  the  love  of  Christ !  and 
it  declares  to  Satan,  *  I  am  stronger  than  thou  art.' 
What  it  has  it  has,  and  never  abandons.  And  if  Satan 
assail  the  Bride,  a  conflict  immediately  ensues;  which 
ceases  not  till  the  dragon  is  discomforted.  Yes,  the 
love  of  Christ  for  his  people  is  firm  and  unrelenting  as 
hell.  *  I  am  persuaded,'  says  St.  Paul, '  that  neither 
death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor 
powers  ;  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come ;  nor 
height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able 
to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus  our  Lord.' 

Once  more. — The  fervor  of  his  love  is  firm  as  hell, 
and  is  mingled  with  ,i  holy  jealousy.  Where  is  there 
a  soul  with  whom  he  has  deigned  to  hold  converse,  that 
has  not  experienced  how  jealous  is  his  love  ?  He  will 
possess  his  people  exclusively,  not  divided  with  ano- 
ther; he  will  not  suffer  his  followers  to  adhere  to 
Belial,  and  coquette  with  the  world:  therefore  his 
efforts  are  incessant,  and  endlessly  varied,  till  his  Bride 
has  cordially  renounced  the  world,  and  is  entirely  his 
own.  What  has  been  our  own  experience,  my  bre- 
thren, when  we  have  turned  back  into  the  world ; 
when,  fascinated  by  its  charms,  we  have  forgotten 
Him,  or  have  attempted  to  associate  Him  with  Belial ; 
when  our  speech  and  our  actions  have  faithlessly  de- 
clared with  Simon,  '  I  know  not  this  man ;'  when  clos- 
ing our  eyes  and  our  hearts  against  him,  we  have  again 
demeaned  ourselves  as  men  of  this  world  ?  What 
were  our  sensations  when  reflection  returned  ?  Did 
not  a  day  of  sorrow  and  anguish,  a  day  of  storm  and 
tempest,  of  darkness  and  gk>om,  break  in  upon  the 


248  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

soul  ?  Our  peace  and  joy  had  departed ;  we  felt  as 
though  we  had  rejected  his  grace;  and  we  began 
anxiously  to  inquire  how  we  might  appease  the  Lord  ! 
He  seemed  to  have  turned  from  us  in  anger,  and  our 
souls  endured  the  torments  of  hell.  Behold  in  this  his 
jealousy  and  his  displeasure !  But,  blessed  be  God,  it 
is  only  the  anger  of  love.  His  tenderness  is  wounded 
because  we  have  left  him,  and  because  he  has  for  a 
time  been  deprived  of  the  joy  of  possessing  us  wholly 
and  undivided.  This  pains  and  afflicts  him.  It  pro- 
vokes his  love,  and  therefore  his  jealousy  is  kindled,  and 
he  plunges  us  down  into  hell.  Into  hell !  Yes,  the 
Lord  sometimes  conducts  even  his  people  into  hell ; 
but,  God  be  praised,  he  does  not  leave  them  there. 

TV. — Strong  as  death  is  the  love  of  Jesus.  His 
jealousy  is  firm  as  hell ;  the  coals  thereof  are  coals  of 
fire,  which  hath  a  most  vehement  flame.  Many  waters 
cannot  quench  it,  neither  can  the  floods  drown  it.  By 
these  words  Shulamite  describes  the  faithfulness  of 
Christ,  as  opposed  to  our  unfaithfulness.  How  differ- 
ent is  it  with  our  love  towards  each  other,  even  when 
it  is  most  sincere  and  pure  ;  contrasted  with  the  love  of 
Christ,  it  is  but  as  the  glimmering  of  a  torch,  which 
but  few  waters  would  suffice  to  quench.  The  slightest 
degree  of  coldness  or  unrequited  affection,  the  slightest 
offence  or  inconstancy  on  the  part  of  those  we  love,  is 
sufficient  to  estrange  our  hearts,  and  quench  our  lov«. 
Such  floods  it  cannot  survive.  And  how  is  it  with  our 
love  to  the  Lord?  Alas!  if  he  do  not  continually 
quicken  it,  by  fresh  and  sensible  supplies  of  his  grace, 
it  is  soon  reduced  to  the  faintest  glimmer.  The 


SERMON  IV.  249 

streams  of  worldly  temptation,  or  the  waters  of  conflict 
and  trial,  need  only  beat  against  it;  the  Lord  need  only 
for  a  moment  hide  himself,  and  withdraw  from  us  the 
sweet  consciousness  of  his  presence,  when  our  hearts 
begin  to  cool,  and  the  melody  of  our  soul  to  cease. 
Our  love  is  fickle ;  it  may  cool  and  expire ;  we  are 
faithless  and  inconstant  But  Jesus  is  faithful ;  his  love 
to  his  people  is  immoveable;  the  coals  thereof  are 
coals  of  fire ;  no  streams,  however  violent,  no  floods, 
however  turbulent,  can  extinguish,  or  even  damp  his 
love  to  sinners.  Not  the  floods  of  our  iniquities'? 
No,  not  eveli  these.  How  great  was  that  flood  of 
sin  and  transgression  which  David  poured  upon  the 
love  of  his  Surety  !  But,  behold !  his  love  burnt  on, 
and  maintained  the  superiority.  He  did  not  forsake 
the  murderer  and  the  adulterer,  but  kindly  extended  to 
him  his  arm,  on  which  he  had  placed  him  as  a  seal, 
and  mercifully  assisted  him  out  of  the  miry  pit,  and 
placed  his  feet  again  upon  the  rock ;  and  David  re- 
mained, what  he  previously  had  been,  the  man  after 
God's  own  heart  The  unfaithfulness  of  Simon  passed 
as  a  flood  over  the  love  of  Jesus !  Another  would  have 
said,  Now  our  friendship  is  at  an  end  ;  with  you  I  will 
have  no  further  intercourse.  But  the  love  of  Jesus  is 
not  a  glimmering  taper,  that  the  first  wind  can  extin- 
guish. The  coals  thereof  are  coals  of  fire,  which, 
though  floods  of  inconstancy,  coldness,  and  ingratitude 
pass  over  it,  continues  triumphantly  to  burn,  and  break 
through  every  assault.  The  look  of  wounded  affection 
which  he  cast  on  Simon,  frem  the  Judgment  Hall,  after 
he  had  denied  him,  still  continues  to  excite  our  admira- 
tion and  wonder  ;  there  was  a  magnanimity,  a  divinity 
22 


250         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAM1TE. 

in  it,  which  we  can  neither  grasp  nor  comprehend.  His 
love  stands  fast.  f  The  mountains  shall  depart,  and  the 
hills  be  removed ;  but  my  kindness  shall  not  depart 
from  thee,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace  be 
removed,  saith  the  Lord,  that  hath  mercy  on  thee.3 
'  My  sheep  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall  any  man 
pluck  them  out  of  my  hand.  My  Father  which  gave 
them  me  is  greater  than  all ;  and  no  man  is  able  to 
pluck  them  out  of  my  Father's  hand.' 

But  may  not  a  man  go  on  comfortably  in  his  sins,  if 
he  knows  he  should  not  on  that  account  lose  the  favor 
of  God  ?  Oh,  how  often  are  we  obliged  to  listen  to 
this  miserable  and  foolish  objection  !  A  little  reflection 
might  teach,  that  the  love  of  sin,  and  the  thought  of 
sinning  that  grace  might  abound,  are  incompatible  with 
the  life  of  one  who  is  born  again ;  they  are  utterly  im- 
possible. If  you  entertain  a  propensity  to  sin  that 
grace  may  abound,  you  are  not  Christians ;  your  new 
birth  is  a  pretence  ;  you  belong  to  those  who  are  with- 
out, and  have  not  yet  obtained  the  smallest  interest  in 
Christ.  Let  this  sink  deep  into  your  hearts,  and  judge 
yourselves  by  it.  But  we  rejoice,  and  praise  God  that 
our  hope  of  salvation  is  founded  on  such  a  rock  as  the 
love  of  Jesus.  Did  our  hope  rest  on  our  love  to  Him, 
it  would  weaken  and  die  if  ever  our  love  dwindled  and 
expired :  were  it  based  upon  our  faith,  we  should  be 
obliged  to  abandon  it,  if  our  faith  became  obscured : 
still  less  can  it  be  grounded  on  our  sensations  and  de- 
votional feelings,  for  then  we  should  sink  into  despair, 
whenever  our  hearts  became  cold  and  barren.  No ; 
our  hope  is  founded  on  the  love  of  Jesus  to  us ;  and 
here  it  has  found  a  secure  anchorage.  It  is  based  on 


SERMON   IV.  251 

the  love  which  is  strong  as  death  and  firm  as  the  grave ; 
whose  coals  are  coals  of  fire,  which  many  waters  can- 
not quench.  It  is  founded  on  the  love  which  pursues 
the  sinner  through  all*  his  deviations  and  wanderings, 
which  loves  him,  though  overshadowed  by  many  in- 
consistencies ;  and  which  stands  unshaken,  though  ours 
may  waver  and  decline.  His  love  to  us  is  our  resting- 
place,  our  sure  foundation ;  it  is  the  prop  by  which 
we  rise  when  we  have  fallen  ;  the  staff  which  sustains 
us  on  our  pilgrimage  through  this  valley  of  tears.  It  is 
the  source  of  our  joy,  the  spring  of  our  courage,  and  the 
fire  by  which  we  are  refined  j  it  is  our  sanctification 
and  our  life.  But  who  can  number  all  the  blessings 
that  are  treasured  up  for  us  in  the  love  of  Jesus  ?  Then 
take  thy  harp,  O  Israel !  Believe  and  rejoice  ;  for 
thou  art  encircled  by  the  arms  of  Everlasting  Love. 


SERMON   V. 


SOLOMON'S  SONG  i.  7,  8. 

Tell  me,  O  thou  whom  my  soul  loveth,  where  thoufeedest,  where 
thou  makest  thy  flock  to  rest  at  noon  :  for  why  should  I  be  as 
one  that  turneth  aside  by  the  flocks  of  thy  companions  ?  If 
thou  know  not,  O  thou  fairest  among  women,  go  thy  way 
forth  by  the  footsteps  of  the  flock,  and  feed  thy  kids  beside 
the  shepherds'  tents. 

THERE  is  scarcely  any  state  of  spiritual  life  that  is 
not  here  and  there  described  in  the  Song  of  Solomon, 
at  least  in  the  way  of  allusion.  This  little  book  is  a 
true  mirror  of  the  heart  of  every  child  of  God.  The 
impure  world,  indeed,  discovers  in  it  only  its  own  vile 
likeness.  But  is  the  stream  to  blame,  that,  when  a 
Moor  surveys  himself  in  the  pure  and  limped  waters,  an 
ugly  black  countenance  is  presented  to  his  view  ?  The 
fault  lies  not  in  the  mirror,  but  in  the  face  of  the  Moor ; 
and  were  he  on  that  account  to  censure  the  innocent 
stream,  or,  in  imitation  or  a  certain  raging  conqueror, 
to  beat  it  with  rods,  would  it  not  be  absurd  and  unjust  ? 
Yet  such  is  the  procedure  of  unbelievers  with  the  Song 
of  Songs.  But,  let  us  not  be  turned  aside  thereby  from 
this  stream  which  flows  from  the  rock  of  Zion,  or  suffer 
our  pleasure  therein  to  be  corrupted.  We  drink  water 
from  it  which  springs  up  to  everlasting  life. 

The  text  contains  a  conversation  between  Christ,  the 
heavenly  Bridegroom,  and  his  Bride,  the  Church  or  the 


SERMON   V.  253 

soul  of  an  individual  believer.     The  sentiment  breathed 
by  the  Shulamite,  is  that  of  longing  for  the  coming  of 
the  Lord,  and  ardent  desire  •  to  be  near  him.     But  the 
answer  of  Christ  calms  the  longing  soul,  points  out  to  it 
the  way,  and  imparts  wholesome  advice.     Many  a  soul 
amongst  us  is  in  the  same  state  with  Shulamite ;  many 
require  the  same  refreshment.     Let  us  therefore  consider 
the  words  more  fully,  and  reflect, 
I.  On  Shulamite's  state. 
II.  On  her  address  to  the  Lord. 

III.  On  her  question. 

IV.  On  Christ's  counter-question. 
V.  On  His  advice. 

I. — We  are  already  acquainted  with  the  state  of  Shu- 
lamite's soul.  She  has  herself,  in  the  preceding  words 
disburthened  her  heart,  and  discovered  to  us  its  inward 
aspect.  *  I  am  black,'  she  complains,  '  O  ye  daugh- 
ters of  Jerusalem.  Look  not  upon  me  because  I  am 
black,  because  the  sun  hath  looked  upon  me.'  In  the 
text  she  describes  her  appearance  as  that  of  noon-day 
— that  is,  she  is  exposed  to  the  noon-day  heat,  when 
the  sun  has  attained  his  greatest  altitude,  and  shoots 
his  scorching  rays  perpendicularly  on  the  head.  '  Tell 
me,'  she  exclaims, '  where  thou  feedest,  where  thou  ma- 
kest  thy  flocks  to  rest  at  noon  ?'  The  raptures  of  morn- 
ing are  past !  For  it  is  the  morning  in  the  soul,  when 
it  resembles  a  garden  of  spices,  and  the  Spirit,  like  the 
south  wind,  blowing  freshly  through  it,  causes  our  fra- 
grance to  flow  abroad ;  and  we  hear  its  sound,  and  per- 
cieve  its  influence.  It  is  morning  when  the  King  him- 
self draws  nelar,  and  our  spikenard  sends  forth  its  per- 
22* 


254  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

fume ;  when  our  inward  spiritual  life  assumes  sensibility 
and  feeling,  and  floods  the  soul  like  a  fruitful  vivifying 
water ;  when  the  presence  of  the  Lord  is  powerfully  ex- 
perienced, the  comfort  of  assurance  blissfully  enjoyed, 
the  love  of  Christ  ardently  felt,  and  the  powers  of  the 
world  to  come  tasted  in  copious  draughts.  How  de- 
lightful is  morning !  How  pleasant  the  air !  How  mild 
and  exhilarating  the  warmth  of  the  sun  !  Then  the  val- 
leys are  filled  with  balsamic  odours,  and  the  plains  are 
moistened  by  the  early  dew ;  then  the  vines  breathe 
forth  their  fragrance,  and  the  turtle  is  heard  in  the  grove. 
It  was  morning  in  the  life  of  Shulamite,  when  she  ex- 
claimed :  '  Let  him  kiss  me  with  the  kisses  of  his  mouth : 
for  thy  love  is  better  than  wine.  Thy  name  is  an  oint- 
ment poured  forth ;  therefore  the  virgins  love  thee. 
Draw  me,  we  will  run  after  thee :  the  king  brought  me 
into  his  chambers ;  we  will  be  glad  and  rejoice  in  thee.' 
Yes,  then  the  light  of  morning  shone  upon  her  head. 
What  a  happy  state  !  To  soar  above  the  earth,  like  a 
young  eagle ;  to  be  placed  beyond  the  fear  of  death 
and  hell ;  to  be  able  joyfully  to  embrace  all  the  breth- 
ren in  Christ ;  to  have  a  heart  expansive  as  the  ocean ; 
to  be  also  dear  to  all  the  brethren,  and  overflowing 
with  streams  of  living  water  ! 

But  the  light  in  which  we  now  meet  the  beloved 
Shulamite,  is  not  that  of  morning  ;  alas  !  all  with  her  is 
changed.  Her  very  appearance  betrays  it.  Where  is 
now  the  dear-  sunshine,  that  once  animated  her  counte- 
nance ;  and  the  eye,  sparkling  with  joy,  the  lip  breath- 
ing eloquence,  the  lofty  enthusiasm,  the  intense  love  of 
her  espousals,  and  her  glowing  testimony  ?  What  be- 
came of  it  all  ?  Alas  !  they  seem  to  have  died  away. 


SERMON   V.  255 

She  resembles  a  flower  that  has  lost  both  its  scent  and 
its  enamel.  Shulamite  is  afflicted  a*nd  cast  down. 
What  then  has  happened  to  her  1  Has  she  perhaps  sus- 
tained a  serious  fall  ?  Not  exactly  so.  Then  she  is  as- 
sailed by  doubts,  and  asks  with  John, '  Art  thou  he  that 
should  come  V  Not  so.  Then  she  has  encountered  se- 
vere temptations,  and  conflicts  with  Satan  ?  No  that  is 
not  the  case.  She  says,  it  is  noon  in  her  soul.  She 
reminds  us  of  a  hot,  sultry,  summer 's-d  ay  ;  all  nature 
droops ;  the  flowers  hang  down  their  head  ;  the  grass  is 
faded  and  dry  ;  the  beasts  pant  for  breath,  the  birds  are 
silent  in  the  trees ;  dark  clouds  of  dust  obscure  the  roads, 
and  all  is  dull  weary  and  languid.  And  this  she  will 
say  is  her  spiritual  state.  Oh,  we  understand  her  well ; 
it  is  the  state  of  barrenness,  of  insensibility,  in  which 
she  finds  herself;  the  state  of  spiritual  nakedness  and 
destitution,  in  which  we  ourselves  perceive  no  trace  of 
the  new  life,  and  of  the  gracious  presence  of  the  Lord  ; 
in  which  a  difference  between  ourselves  and  the  un- 
regenerate  is  scarce  discernible ;  in  which  we  feel  no 
love,  no  necessity  of  prayer,  and  we  begin  to  waver, 
and  to  doubt  whether  we  are  in  a  state  of  grace,  or  no. 
This  is  the  noon  in  which  we  find  the  Shulamite. 

n. — Shulamite  in  her  distress  applies  to  the  Lord ; 
to  him  she  will  make  known  her  grief.  In  this  she  does 
wisely.  There  is  no  helper  besides  Him ;  and  even 
though  we  may  be  unable  to  pray,  we  should  prostrate 
ourselves  in  silence  before  him,  as  if  we  would  say,  Be- 
hold our  misery  !  It  is  vain  to  look  elsewhere,  this  is 
the  only  well  from  which  water  can  be  obtained  in 
time  of  drought.  c  Thou,'  she  sighs,  '  whom  my  soul 


256  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

loveth !'  Thou !  What  a  singular  address !  Why 
does  she  not  acW  his  name  ?  Ah,  in  her  present  state 
of  mind  she  knows  not  what  to  call  him.  There  are 
times,  in  which  we  know  not  how  to  address  the  Lord, 
except  with  a  simple,  Thou !  Thou !  and  that  is  all. 
Thus  we  sometimes  experience  sudden  abstractions  of 
mind,  like  in  the  third  heaven  ;  moments  of  unequalled 
mental  vision  and  communion  with  Jesus  ;  when  sud- 
denly he,  who  is  the  fairest  amongst  the  children  of 
men,  displays  himself  to  our  view  in  all  his  beauty,  as 
though  we  saw  him  face  to  face ;  and  all  the  bliss,  that 
is  eternal  at  his  right  hand,  is  imbibed  into  the  soul,  as 
with  one  draught.  The  entire  greatness  of  his  love,  is 
unveiled  to  our  view ;  the  happiness  of  being  recon- 
ciled by  his  blood,  is  felt  in  all  its  magnitude,  and  the 
delight  of  the  heart  exceeds  all  bounds.  Then,  indeed, 
one  would  gladly  speak,  and  call  him  by  name ;  but 
what  name  is  sufficiently  expressive  to  describe  Him 
whom  we  behold  and  taste.  His  most  glorious  titles 
appear  to  us  inadequate,  and  too  mean  for  such  a  Lord. 
Absorbed  in  admiration  and  excess  of  bliss,  a  simple 
(  O  Thou!'  is  all  we  are  able  to  utter.  But  there  are 
other  states  of  feeling  in  which  wre  know  not  by  what 
title  to  address  him.  By  what  name  shall  we  call  upon 
him,  when,  as  convicted  sinners,  we  lie  prostrate  in  the 
dust  before  his  throne  of  grace,  and  cannot  venture 
even  to  lift  up  our  eyes.  Shall  we  call  him  our  Lord  ? 
Ah,  we  are  rebels,  and  not  servants.  Shall  we  address 
him  as  Savior  ?  How  can  we  presume ;  what  claims 
have  we  on  his  mercy  ?  Or  as  our  Mediator  and  Inter- 
cessor ?  Alas,  for  creatures  so  deeply  fallen  as  we  are, 
he  will  never  intercede  !  All  the  sweet  and  endearing 


SERMON   V.  257 

titles  by  which  his  children  are  permitted  to  address 
him,  falter  upon  our  tongues ;  and  Thou !  Thou  ! 
is  all  that  our  trembling  lips  can  utter.  And  when 
in  his  mysterious  dealings  he  has  again  deprived  us 
of  all  that  he  had  once  vouchsafed  to  us — has  with- 
drawn himself  from  our  view,  and  surrounded  him- 
self with  clouds  and  darkness,  so  that  we  no  longer 
taste  his  grace,  or  enjoy  his  love,  as  was  the  case  with 
Shulamite, — how  shall  we  then  call  upon  him  ?  By 
what  name  address  him  ?  As  a  friend  1  We  no  longer 
recognize  him  as  such.  As  a  Bridegroom  ?  Ah,  the 
days  of  our  espousals  are  past.  As  a  Prince  of  peace  1 
Where  is  his  peace  !  As  our  guide  ?  Alas,  we  wan- 
der forsaken.  At  such  times  we  are  tempted  to  ask 
with  Manoah, '<  What  is  thy  name  V  And,  Wonderful ! 
is  the  only  title  by  which  we  can  address  him !  Some- 
times even  we  appear  to  have  lost  all  trace  of  him  as  a 
4  Wonderful  God  ;'  it  seems  as  though  he  guided  us  no 
longer,  or  concerns  himself  no  more  about  us.  Then  a 
sighing  of  c  O  Thou !'  is  our  only  resource.  Thus  it 
was  with  our  Shulamite.  But  the  remainder  of  her 
address  must  cause  us  astonishment ;  *  Thou,'  she  says, 
*  whom  my  soul  loveth.'  How  strange !  We  thought 
her  love  was  at  an  end.  Yes,  that  she  herself  also 
most  firmly  believes.  But  does  she  not  say,  '  Thou 
whom  my  soul  loveth  V  The  words  have  indeed  es- 
caped her,  but  I  believe  she  is  not  insensible  of  it. 
Ah  !  how  frequently  is  this  the  lamentation  of  benight- 
ed and  tempted  souls.  Their  complaint  is  incessant, 
that  there  is  no  more  love  in  their  heart,  no  desire  after 
the  Lord,  and  yet,  in  contradiction  to  themselves,  they 
continually  exclaim,  if  not  in  words,  yet  most  loudly  by 


258  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

their  actions  :  ( Thou  whom  my  soul  loveth !'  Singu- 
lar people !  who  do  nothing  else  than  run  about  from 
morning  till  night  inquiring  and  seeking  after  Jesus,  like 
sheep  lost  in  the  desert,  bleating  after  their  shepherd. 
How  delighted  would  you  be  to  find  him  again  ;  and 
should  any  one  advise  you  to  abandon  the  search,  "  not 
for  mines  of  gold,  or  royal  diadems,"  would  be  your 
answer;  "  no, 'rather  give  up  all  than  give  up  Christ." 
And  yet,  you  say,  you  have  no  love  to  him  after  whom 
you  long :  no,  not  the  smallest !  !  How  strange,  how 
singular  !  thus  to  run  after  one  in  whom  you  have  no 
interest ;  thus  to  lament  his  absence  with  so  much  afflic- 
tion. O  ye  favored  children  !  This  afflicted  look,  this 
oppressed  mien,  this  painful  lamentation,  "  I  have  lost 
the  Lord" — this  seeking  and  longing — what  is  it  but  an 
expressive, ( Thou,  Thou,  whom  my  soul  loveth.'  What 
is  itj  however  its  reflection  may  be  concealed  from 
yourselves,  but  a  look  of  the  purest  love,  which,  be  as- 
sured, still  exists  and  works  unseen  in  the  deep  recesses 
of  the  soul ;  which,  in  the  children  of  God,  can  never 
be  extinguished ;  which  survives  the  bitterest  tempta- 
tions, the  greatest  spiritual  desertions,  and  proclaims, 
under  every  change  of  circumstance,  its  existence  and 
life,  by  manifold,  though  not  unfrequentlyby  very  faint, 
manifestations.  Yes,  the  lambs  of  Jesus  always  love 
him;  and  even  when  the  lamentation  escapes  them, 
that  they  love  him  not,  the  tone  in  which  the  complaint 
is  uttered,  imparts  to  it  an  entirely  different  meaning  ; 
and  a  sensitive  ear  distinctly  perceives  in  it  the  tender 
greeting,  '  Thou  whom  my  soul  loveth.' 

Ill, — Having  listened  to  the  salutation  of  the  afflict- 


SERMON  V.  259 

ed  Bride,  let  us  now  hear  what  it  is  she  really  desires, 
and  what  the  nature  of  the  inquiry  she  has  addressed  to 
the  Lord.  *  Tell  me,'  she  says,  '  O  Thou  whom  my 
soul  loveth,  where  thou  feedest,  where  thou  makest  thy 
flock  to  rest  at  noon ;  for  why  should  I  be  as  one  that 
turneth  aside  by  the  flocks  of  thy  companions  V  His 
companions  are  the  ministers  of  his  word,  the  preachers 
and  prophets  whom  he  has  called ;  and  it  is  a  great 
honor,  which  Shulamite  confers  on  them,  when  she 
calls  them  the  companions  of  Christ !  Elsewhere,  we 
are  termed  messengers  in  Christ's  stead,  and  his  fellow 
laborers.  To  what  dignity  are  we  here  raised !  Our 
hearts  might  well  be  oppressed,  and  force  us  to  exclaim, 
"  Lord  God !  send  another,  I  am  not  fit  to  preach." 
The  flocks  of  these  companions,  are  those  who  have 
believed  through  their  word,  their  spiritual  children. 
Amongst  these  Shulamite  had  wandered  ;  but  she  had 
no  desire  to  do  so  longer ;  what  had  it  availed  her  ? 
Nothing;  no  sermon,  however  beautiful,  no  devotional 
exercises,  no  exhortations  of  the  brethren,  had  been 
able  to  make  her  depressed  and  withered  heart  again  to 
blossom,  or  to  re- assure  her  sinking  soul.  '  Ah,'  she 
says,  *  suffer  me  no  longer  to  wander  in  vain  among 
the  flocks  of  thy  companions ;  but  come  to  me  thyself!' 
But  the  words  may  likewise  be  rendered  thus,  *  That  I 
may  no  longer  be  amongst  the  flocks  of  thy  compa- 
nions, as  one  veiled' — that  is,  as  a  widow.  "  Ah," 
she  will  say,  "  while  thy  other  children  boast  of  the 
sweetness  of  thy  presence,  of  the  consolations  they  re- 
ceive from  thee,  and  of  the  frequency  of  thy  visits ; 
must  I  cast  down  my  eyes  in  melancholy  and  silence ; 
and  be  a  barren  tree  amongst  the  fruitful,  or  as  a  sick 


260  SOLOMON   AND   THE   SHULAMITE. 

lamb  amongst  the  vigorous  of  the  flock  ?  No  one  de- 
rives benefit  from  me ;  I  am  to  the  brethren  as  one 
dead  ;  I  have  lost  my  beloved ;  my  friend  has  forsaken 
me ;  he  cheers  me  no  longer ;  I  am  solitary  and  discon- 
solate ;  and  shall  I  not  wear  the  veil  of  mourning  ? 
Such  is  the  state  in  which  Shulamite  describes  herself 
to  be,  and  she  prays  the  Lord  to  relieve  her  from  it. 

6  Tell  me,'  she  says, f  where  thou  feedest,  where  thou 
makest  thy  flock  to  rest  at  noon.'  Yes,  that  is  what 
she  most  desires  to  know.  In  the  first  place,  where  he 
is  in  circumstances  like  those  in  which  she  then  found 
herself,  where  he  really  feedeth  ?  But  what  is  it  you 
wish  so  much  to  know,  beloved  Shulamite  ?  We  do 
not  understand  your  words.  Do  you  inquire  where  he 
would  then  find  food  for  himself?  Oh,  he  would  .find 
abundance  in  your  heart,  although  you  do  not  think  so. 
This  anxiety  about  him,  this  seeking  and  longing,  this 
inquiry  and  running  after  your  lost  friend,  he  is  well 
pleased  to  see ;  that  is  to  him  food,  a  delight,  a  sweet 
repast ;  even  in  the  barren  desert  he  can  find  food.  But 
probably  you  wish  to  know  what  food  he  has  provided 
for  such  poor  miserable  sheep  as  you  have  now  become  ? 
Secret  food,  hidden  pastures.  He  sustains  them  by  an 
unseen  energy,  with  a  concealed  faith,  of  which  they 
are  not  sensible;  and  with  a  hope  whose  sweetness 
they  have  not  tasted ;  but  yet  it  is  near  them.  He  like- 
wise sometimes  feeds  such  afflicted  lambs  who  know 
not  whether  they  belong  to  the  Shepherd  or  not,  upon 
the  field  of  their  own  early  experience ;  he  conducts 
them  back  in  spirit  to  the  period  when  they  certainly 
experienced  the  kiss  of  his  love,  and  when  he  made  his 
covenant  with  them.  With  David  they  then  remember 


SERMON  V.  261 

their  song  in  the  night ;  and  the  recollection,  in  some 
degree,  revives  their  courage.  Or  he  points  them,  in 
.  his  word,  to  the  promises  which  assure  them  that  the 
bruised  reed  shall  not  be  broken,  or  the  smoking  flax  be 
quenched.  In  short  j  there  is  never  any. want  of  food 
and  spiritual  nourishment  for  Christ's  sheep ;  no,  not 
even  when  they,  appear  to  wade  in  the  sandy  desert, 
where  no  vegetation  regales  the  eye,  where  not  a  blade 
of  grass  presents  itself  to  their  longing  appetites.  e  Tell 
me/  the  Shulamite  asks  -again, c  where  thoii  resteth  at 
noon  T  That  he  rests— that  she  knows,  that  she  feels. 
The  sound  of  his  footsteps  she  no  longer  hears,  neither 
can  she  perceive  any  trace  of  his  presence  or  his  influ- 
ence, either  within  or  around  her.  Ah,  beloved  soul, 
if  thou  didst  but  know  it,  he  rests  quite 'near  to  thee,  in 
thy  bark,  in  thy  chamber  ;  yes,  even  in  thy  heart  ;- — 
though  indeed  thou  perceivest  him  not.  Now  she  has 
no  rest  till  she  -has  again  found  him,  till  she  again  pos- 
sesses him,  and  can  say,  *  My  beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am 
his :  he  feedeth  among  the  lilies.'  Without  Hima  oh  ! 
where  can  she  be  at  peace,  with  all  her  sinfulness,  her 
misery,  her  weakness  and  infirmity  ?  No,  she  must 
have  him  again !  She  wanders  from  place  to  place ; 
now  she  seeks  him  in  the  solitude  of  her  closet,  if  per- 
adventure  she  may  find  him  there ;  now  she  looks  for 
him  amongst  the  assembled  brethren,  and  asks,  Is  he 
here  1  Then  she  searches  for  him  in  books  and  spirit- 
ual songs,  if  by  any  means  she  may  find  him.  All  kinds 
of  advisers  come  to  her ;  "  Oh !"  they  say,  "  be  not  so 
vehement ;  wait  with  patience,  till  the  Lord  shows  him- 
self again."  But  she  indignantly  rejects  such  counsel. 
The  matter  is  too  urgent.  She  must  seek  him.  Or,  it 
23 


262  SOLOMON   AND    THE    SHULAMITE. 

is  said, "  Enjoy  the  beauties  of  nature,  cheer  yourself  in 
pleasant  society."  "  Ah,"  she  replies,  "  I  covet  no 
rest,  till  I  can  enjoy  it  in  the  arms  of  Jesus."  Her  de- 
jection increases,  and  she  knows  no  other  resource  than 
to  call  upon  him, f  Tell  me,  thou  whom  my  soul  loveth, 
where  thou  feedest,  where  thou  makest  thy  flocks  to 
rest  at  noon  V 

W. — Thus  she  inquires,  thus  she  laments.  At  length 
she  obtains  an  answer.  The  Bridegroom  replies  to  her 
with  another  question ;  and  he  asks,  '  Dost  thou  not 
know,  O  thou  fairest  among  women  V  In  what  a  de- 
lightful sense  those  words  may  be  understood  !  A  child 
in  its  distress  flies  to  its  mother  for  consolation ;  she 
listens  to  its  complaints,  and  laughs  away  its  tears.  In 
this  sense  must  we  understand  the  reply  of  Christ.  Shu- 
lamite  stands  mourning  and  distressed  before  him  ;  she 
thinks  herself  black,  and  that  she  no  longer  belongs  to 
the  fold.  The  Lord  laughs  at  her  complaint,  and  seems 
to  say,  "  Yes,  thou  hast  really  cause  to  be  dejected 
about  thy  soul !"  "  Shulamite,"  hast  thou  then  forgot- 
ten ?  Dost  thou  really  not  know,  O  thou  fairest  among 
women  1  Thou  who  art  arrayed  with  the  glory  of  the  Sun, 
who  hast  been  made  partaker  of  my  nature, who  art  adorn- 
ed with  my  righteousness,  the  righteousness  of  God ;  wilt 
thou  hang  down  thy  head  as  a  bulrush  ?  O  thou  fairest 
among  women  !  be  sensible  of  thy  glory ;  for  know  I 
have  invested  thee  with  my  own ;  and  in  truth  no  an- 
gel is  so  beautiful  as  thou  art.  This  is  the  meaning  of 
the  words  employed  by  Jesus.  How  often  might  they 
be  repeated !  How  often  do  we  meet  with  souls  like 
Shulamite,  whose  very  appearance  says,  '.  Do  not  look 


SERMON    V.  263 

upon  me,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  I  am  altogether 
too  black.'  They  will  perceive  nothing  of  the  Divine  na- 
ture in  themselves ;  they  deem  themselves  at  a  great  dist- 
ance, and  rather  number  all  others  among  the  children 
of  God,  than  themselves.  Yet  in  all  they  say  and  do 
the  seal  of  the  Lamb  that  they  bear  upon  them  is  visi- 
ble :  their  sighs,  their  patience,  their  hunger  and  thirst, 
their  love,  all  make  it  convincingly  evident  that  they 
are  the  children  of  God,  and  are  clothed  with  the  right- 
eousness of  Christ,  or  that  none  are.  And  still  they 
persist  in  believing  that  all  with  them  is  a  delusion ; 
and  though  we  address  them  in  the  words  of  Christ, '  0 
thou  fairest  among  women,  dost  thou  really  not  know 
thyself  T  What  does  it  avail  that  we  speak  ?  They 
usually  do  not  believe  us. 

V. — But  yet  Shulamite  is  again  to  be  comforted,  and 
to  obtain  peace.  To  this  end  the  Lord  gives  her,  in  the 
first  instance,  the  good  advice  to  go  forth.  To  go  forth ! 
And  from  whence  ?  To  go  forth  from  herself.  Un- 
doubtedly much  of  our  spiritual  dejection  arises  chiefly 
from  our  thoughts  being  too  constantly  turned  within 
ourselves,  busied  in  the  contemplation  of  our  own  frailty 
and  misery.  We  ought,  indeed,  to  watch  over  our 
hearts,  and  daily  and  hourly  to  be  mindful  of  our  wretch- 
edness, misery,  and  sin ;  but  we  ought  likewise  to  look 
out  of  ourselves.  Many  are  as  completely  absorbed  in 
the  thoughts  of  their  own  misery,  as  if  there  were  noth- 
ing else  to  be  considered ;  as  if  no  cross  had  been  erect- 
ed, and  no  blood  had  flowed  from  it,  to  wash  away  sin. 
They  view  their  depravity,  as  if  unatoned  for  on  Golgo- 
tha, as  if  there  had  been  no  Son  of  God  to  pay  all  our 


264  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

debts  to  the  uttermost  farthing ;  as  if  through  Christ 
no  paternal  heart  had  been  opened  in  heaven ;  and  as 
if  there  were  no  such  thing  as  free  grace  to  justify  the 
sinner,  requiring  nothing,. but  bestowing  all.  What 
can  possibly  arise  from  so  partial  a  consideration  of  our 
state  but  dejection  and  anguish.  Go  forth,  thou  afflict- 
ed soul,  from  the  gloomy  melancholy  corner  of  thy 
poor  heart.  Go  forth  to  the  pleasure  garden  of  Geth- 
semane ;  visit  Gabbatha,  and  the  accursed  tree  of  Gol- 
gotha :  .view  the  wedding  garment,  the  glory  that  is 
there  prepared,  and'  which  Eternal  Love  presents  to 
every  longing  sinner,  let  his  inward  state  be  ever  so 
wretched.  Such  sights  and  contemplations,  in  spite  of 
the  dreary  state  of  thy  soul,  will  revive "  thy  courage. 
Go  forth  also  from  thy  great  pretensions.  Thy  desires 
are  too  vast ;  thou  requirest  greater  things  than  have  been 
promised  to  the  children  of  God  in  this  world.  Thou 
wouldst  taste  and  see ; .  but  this  is  the  time  of  faith, 
away,  away,  with  such  pretensions.  Dost  thou  desire 
the  sweets  and  pleasures  of  heaven  ?  Rejoice,  O  sinner, 
if  thou  hast  grace;,  and  let  grace  suffice  thee.  Thou 
wouldst  wish  the  Lord  to  lead  thee  in  the  way  which 
thou  thyself  prescribest.  Go  forth  from  these  wishes ! 
Offer  them  as  a  sacrifice.  Go  forth  from  thy  own  will, 
and  enter  quietly  and  confidingly  into  the  will  of  God  ! 
Let  him  do  with  thee  what  he  pleaseth ;  or  wilt  thou  be 
his  counseller  ?  Let  Him- pro  vide  for  thee,  and  thou 
wilt  do  well.  All  this  the. Lord  requires,  when  he 
commands  '  to  go  forth.' 

Let  us  now  inquire  what  further  counsel  the  Lord 
gives  her  !  '  Go  forth,'  he  says,  by  the  footsteps  of  the 
flock.'  The  tendency  of  this  advice  likewise  is  to  re- 


SERMON  V.  266 

store  peace  to  the  dejected  Shulamite.  In  the  first 
place,  it  contains  a  serious  reproof,  similar  to  that  which 
was  given  to  Peter ;  when  not  altogether  satisfied  with 
the  career  marked  out  for  him  by  the  Lord,  he  pointed 
to  John,  to  whom  so  rough  a  course  was  not  assigned, 
and  presumed  to  ask,  <  And  what  shall  this  man  do  ?' 
To  which  the  Lord  replied,  *  What  is  that  to  thee  1  fol- 
low thou  me.'  He  says  the  same  to  Shulamite,  in  the 
words,  <  Go  forth  by  the  footsteps  of  the  flock.  Ob- 
serve the  sheep  ;  they  do  not  wander  where  they  please, 
but  they  quietly  and  silently  follow  their  shepherd.  Do 
thou  likewise,  my  beloved  Shulamite.  Consider  what 
happens  when  one  of  the  lambs  goes  a  little  astray  from 
the  fold,  how  the  Shepherd  employs  every  means  tore- 
store  it.  Somewhat  similar  is  the  way  that  I  deal  with 
my  sheep.'  This  is  what  the  Bridegroom  will  in  the 
first  place  intimate  to  her.  But  at  the  same  time  he 
will  point  out  the  way  in  which  she  may  again  obtain 
consolation.  *  Yes,'  lie  will  say,  '  I  perceive  clearly 
that  thou  no  longer  knowest  thyself,  O  thou  fairest 
among  women.  Thou  art  a  child  of  God ;  but  thou 
belie  vest  it  not,  and  art  a  stranger  to  thyself.  Thou 
art  lx>rn  again ;  but  thou  art  no  longer  sensible  of  it 
Thou  art  clothed  with  my  righteousness,  and  hast  every 
reason  to  be  joyful ;  but  thou  canst  not  believe  it.  And 
why  not  ?  Because  thou  feelest  thyself  barren,  and  thy 
spiritual  life  is  not  in  a  flourishing  state.  But  that  is 
no  ground  for  despair.  Go  forth  by  the  footsteps  of 
the  flock.'  And  Shulamite  would  certainly  have  done 
so.  But  what  are  we  to  understand  that  she  has  done  ? 
She  has  observed  other  children  of  God,  has  considered 
the  ways  of  the  saints ;  and  what  has  she  there  discov- 
23* 


266         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

ered  ?  That  she  is  no  solitary  bird  upon  the  housetop ; 
and  that  her  experience  has  nothing  peculiar,  or  un- 
usual. Where  did  she  find  the  footsteps  of  the  saints '? 
Alas  !  not  always  on  verdant .  and  luxuriant  pastures, 
but  most  frequently  on  rugged  paths  and  obscure  cross- 
roads, in  barren  deserts  and  dreary  wastes.  The  most 
favored  servants  of  God  she  has  heard  complain ;  i  Ah  ! 
my  tongue  cleaveth  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth-;  my 
strength  is  dried  up  like  a  potsherd  !'  The  most  holy 
she  has  seen  prostrate  in  the  dust,  groaning  and  com- 
plaining. 

And  yet,  miserable,  as  they  were,  the  Lord  was  with 
them ;  they  were  still  the  people  after  God's  own  heart, 
the  apple  of  his  eye,  his  peculiar  care.  But  in  due 
time  they  had  again  their  hours  of  refreshment ;  and 
showers  of  rain  descended  upon  the  parched  and  with- 
ered meadows ;  and  at  length,  after  all  the  difficulties 
upon  earth,  their  footsteps  still  shone  above  the  clouds, 
among  the  stars  of  heaven ;  they  took  their  place  in 
the  midst  of  Paradise,  and  appeared  among  the  holy 
angels,  before  the  throne  of  glory.  Such  was  the  dis- 
covery made  by  the  beloved  Shulamite.  O  how  en- 
couraging and  consoling  was  it  to  her,. to  find  that  all 
who  had  reached  Canaan  had  traversed  the  same  path 
on  which  she  then  was.  She  could  then  again  believe 
that  the  Lord  was  with  her ;  that  he  guided  and  sus- 
tained her,  and  that  her  path  also  would  terminate  in 
glory.  Thus  she  thought  she  had  her  Bridegroom 
again  ;  she  would  again  believe  that  He  still  holds  her 
by  His  right  hand,  though  in  darkness ;  and  her  going 
forth  by  the  footsteps  of  the  flock  had  been  blessed  and 
consoling  to  her. 


SERMON  V.  267 

0  ye  that  are  dejected  and  disconsolate,  who,  like 
Shulamite,  are  languishing  in  the  heat  of  mid-day,  fol- 
low her  example.  Turn  your  gaze  and  your  reflec- 
tions away  from  your  own  hearts,  and  from  your  own 
misery.  .Go  forth  to  the  ocean  of  mercy  and  love 
which  flows  on  Golgotha ;  the  sight  will  produce  an 
immediate  change,  and  inspire  you  with  other  and  more 
agreeable  meditations.  Then  go  forth  by  the  footsteps 
of  the  flock,  and  learn  that  you  tread  the  same  path 
that  the  most  distinguished  saints  have  trod  before  you. 
This  will  support  you ;  it  will  revive  your  courage  and 
renew  your  hope.  Then  feed  your  kids  and  your  young 
lambs  beside  the  shepherds'  tents.  The  Bride  is  here 
compared  to  a  shepherdess  with  a  flock  of  hungry 
lambs.  Her  heart  hungers,  her  spirit  hungers,  her  un- 
derstanding hungers,  to  comprehend  the  darkness  that 
surrounds  her;  her  soul  to  be  assured  of  the  presence  of 
the  Lord ;  her  weak  faith  hungers  after  strength,  her 
glimmering  hope  after  food,  and  her  expiring  love  to 
be  revived.  O  all  ye  weary  souls,  go  ye  likewise  forth ; 
and  feed  the  kids  beside  the  shepherds'  tents.  The 
shepherds  are  the  men  of  God,  who  have  spoken  by 
the  Holy  Ghost,  the  ancient  Fathers  and  Prophets,  the 
Evangelists  and  Apostles ;  and  where  they  speak,  in- 
struct and  console ;  in  their  revelations,  in  their  ser- 
mons, in  their  histories,  and  in  their  epistles ;  there  be- 
hold their  tents,  and  the  most  luxuriant  pastures.  There 
learn  that  God  is  faithful ;  that  he  ever  views  his  peo- 
ple with  complacency ;  and  that,  even  when  they  have 
left  their  first  love,  he  recollects  with  delight  the  love  of 
their  espousals,  and  their  first  surrender  of  themselves 
to  him.  There  learn  that  the  entire  foundation  of  your 


268         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

hope  is  not  to  be  found  within  but  without  yourselves 
That  will  strengthen  your  heart  and  enable  you  to  wait 
patiently  till  it  please  him  again  to  pour  down  upon  you 
his  quickening  grace.  Rouse,  then,  thy  afflicted  senses ! 
Know  thyself  again,  O  Shulamite,  thou  fairest  among 
women,  adorned  with  purple  and  jewels.  Wait  but  a 
little,  and  thy  feet,  after  all  thy  doubts  and  fears,  will 
also  tread  the  golden  streets  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem, 
in  the  land  of  rest,  and  of  an  eternal  sabbath.  O  sweet 
termination  of  all  complaints  and  sorrows !  The  Spirit 
and  the  Bride  say,  Come  !  And  let  him  who  heareth 
say,  Come.  And  the  Bridegroom  saith,  *  I  come  quick- 
ly. Yes,  even  so  come,  Lord  Jesus  !'  Amen. 


SERMON    VI. 

SOLOMON'S  SONG  u.  1:2. 
And  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land. 

•  CHRIST,  the  heavenly  Bridegroom,  invites  his  Bride 
to  go  forth  to  the  hills,  and  to  the  mountains,  to  rejoice 
with  him  in  the  verdure  and  bloom  of  a  lovely  spring. 
It  is  not  the  spring  of  nature  that  she  is  invited  to  en- 
joy. It  is  the  influence  of  grace,  the  spring  of  spiritual 
life,  which  the  plastic  breath  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the 
comforter,  has  caused  to  put  forth  and  blossom  in  the 
soul  of  sinners.  '  Rise  up  my  love,  my  fair  one,  he 
saith,  and  come  away.  For,  lo,  the  winter  is  past  ; 
the  rain  is  over  and  gone ;  the  flowers  appear  on  the 
earth  ;  the  spring  is  come ;  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle 
is  heard  in  our  land.'  Let  us  dwell  for  a  short  time  on 
the  last  few  words  of  our  text, — and, 
I.  Take  a  nearer  view  of  the  turtle, 
n.  Listen  to  its  voice  in  the  land. 

I. — The  Bridegroom  speaks  of  a  dove,  whose  voice 
is  heard  in  the  land  on  the  verdure  of  spring.  We 
have  already  seen,  that  by  the  dove,  in  some  places  of 
our  song,  the  Shulamite.  herself  is  intended  ;  but  that 
is  not  the  case  in  the  passage  before  us.  Some  com- 
mentators have  supposed  that  the  Lord  here  describes 


270  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

the  dawn  of  the  period  of  the  New  Covenant ;  and  the 
turtle  dove  they  imagine  to  be  the  voice  of  the  preacher 
in  the  desert,  the  herald  John.  But  under  what. simili- 
tude could  this  man,  clothed  in  camel's  hair,  be  less  ap- 
propriately represented  than  under  that  of  a  dove? 
We  are  of  opinion,  that  by  the  dove  the  Holy  Ghost, 
the  comforter,  can  alone  be  understood.  As  the  Son  of 
God  condescended  to  choose  the  lamb  for  his  symbol, 
the  Spirit,  in  like  manner,  selected  the  dove.  To  whom 
does  not  the  wonderful  scene  at  Jordan  at  once  occur  '? 
And  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  belongs  essentially  to  that 
spring  of  grace;  for  it  is  produced  by  this  bird  of 
heaven.  That  the  spirit  in  the  text  is  denominated  the 
turtle-dove,  is  of  little  importance.  The  Lord  com- 
pares the  life  of  grace  to  the  blossoming  spring  of  na- 
ture, and  to  this  simile  the  turtle  dove  was  more  appro- 
priate than  the  domestic  pigeon. 

In  order  to  discover  the  full  meaning  of  this  signifi- 
cant symbol,  it  wrill  be  necessary  to  take  history  as  our 
guide.  Three  times  the  sacred  volume  presents  to  us 
this  image ;  and  each  time  the  circumstances,  the 
epochs,  and  the  designs  are  similar.  In  the  first  place, 
Moses  informs  us,  that  the  Spirit  of  God  moved  (lite- 
rally rendered,  brooded)  upon  the  void  and  formless 
earth.  The  Spirit,  in  as  far  as  it  assisted  in  the  forma- 
tion of  the  earth,  and  in  preparing  it  as  a  theatre  of 
peace  and  joy,  is  here  likewise  compared  to  a  bird 
(beyond  a  doubt  the  dove)  with  her  wings  expanded, 
as  if  brooding  on  her  eggs.  Some  hundred  years  later 
the  dove  appears  to  us  again,  and  it  is  remarkable, 
under  decidedly  similar  circumstances  and  at  a  similar 
epocha.  Again,  her  wings  are  expanded  over  a  waste 


SERMON  V.  271 

and  void  ;  again  she  moves  over  the  face  of  the  waters, 
but  they  are  the  thundering  waters  of  the  deluge — 
those  devastating  floods  of  wrath,  in  which,  according 
to  the  Scriptures,  the  first  world  was  destroyed.     Over 
the  vast  watery  grave  of  the  former  world  she  flies  with 
the  green  olive-leaf  in  her  mouth,  the  lovely  harbinger 
of  joy,  hastening  to  convey  to  Noah  the  intelligence  he 
so  much  longed  to  receive.      And  what  does  her  ap- 
pearance with  the  green  leaf  in  her  mouth  announce  ? 
It  announces  the  termination  of  the  Divine  judgment, 
the  coming  of  a  new  creation  ;  it  proclaims  the  com- 
mencement of  a  time  of  grace ;  of  a  reign  of  peace, 
which,  under,  a  new  covenant,  rich  in  promises,  shall 
spring  up  for  sinful  man.      For  the  third  time  the  dove 
is  seen  on  the  banks  of  Jordan,  resting  on  the  head  of 
our   Savior,  when,  in   the   great  act  of  baptism,  he 
solemnly  and  formally  took  upon  himself  our  guilt,  and 
silently  acknowledged  it  as  his  own ;  and  now,  tell  me, 
my  friends,  if  this  third  appearance  is  not  of  similar  im- 
port with  the  first  and  second.     Once  again  she  moves 
over  the  waters,  but  they  are  those  of  John's  baptism, 
in  whose  waves  our  Surety  had  just  made,  in  the  name 
of  our  souls,  the  great  confession  of  sin  ;  and  in  our 
>i<  ;ul  had  solemnly  declared  himself  worthy  of  death, 
and  of  the  Divine  wrath.      Once  again  she  appears 
above  a  waste  and  void,  above  the  desolation  of  hu- 
manity, but  whose   ruin  now  rests  on  our  substitute. 
Once  again  she  appears  at  the  commencement  of  a  new 
creation  of  that  which  the  Spirit  purchased  by  the  blood 
of  the  lamb,  will  produce  upon  the  earth ;  and  again 
she  is  the  harbinger  of  peace,  joy,  and  mercy.      We 
hail  thy  appearance,  O  sacred  dove,  upon  yonder  silent 


272  .      SOLOMON   AND    THE    SHULAMITE. 

desert,  and  as  a  beautiful  messenger  of  peace,  over  the 
baptismal  waters  of  Jordan,  that  proclaim  aloud  our 
sinfulness,  and  our  worthiness  of  condemnation  and 
death.  We  might  well  have  expected  the  eagle  to  flit 
across  the  heavens,  with  the  cry  of  Woe !  woe  !  and 
announcing  eternal  destruction  to  the  world  and  its  in- 
habitants ;  when  behold,  instead  of  the  eagle,  the  dove 
appears  above  the  waste  and  void — grace  !•  grace!  is 
the  burden  of  her  song,  and  peace  and  joy  her  welcome 
salutation !  We  bless  and  receive  her  with  shouts  of 
joy  !  O  ye,  who  mourn  and  quake,  why  are  ye  cast 
down  ?  The  lion  on  the  top  of  Sinai,  and  of  Ebal,  has 
ceased  to  roar ;  the  olive  branch  becomes  green  in  our 
banners,  and  on  the  horizon  of  the  new  covenant  days 
the  dove  is  seen  to  hover. 

Do  we  ask  on  what  ground  the  Holy  Ghost  has  cho- 
sen the  Dove  for  its  symbol  1  So  many  points  of  re- 
semblance present  themselves  to  our  view,  that,  for  the 
sake  of  brevity,  we  must  restrict  our  reflections  to 
those  which  are  most  striking  and  important.  The 
dove,  this  tender,  faithful  bird,  has  been  at  all  times, 
and  amongst  all  people,  an  emblem  of  constant  love ; 
and  in  this  respect,  the  Comforter  may,  with  great  pro- 
priety, be  compared  to  it.  How  astonishing. is  the  love 
of  the  Eternal  Father,  who  tore  from  his  bosom  his 
-  only  Son,  the  child  of  his  heart,  to  sacrifice  him  in  the 
flaming  fire  of  his  wrath,  and  to  expose  him  to  the  rage 
of  hell,  in  order  to  snatch  from  the  abyss  of  eternal  tor- 
ment a  race  obnoxious  to  death,  and  meriting  destruc- 
tion. Deep  and  unfathomable  is  the  love  of  our  Re- 
deemer, who  left  a  throne  of  majesty,  to  ascend  the  ac- 
cursed tree,  there  to  pour  out  his  precious  blood  for  the 


IIMON  V.  273 

servants  of  Belial  and  of  sin ;  to  redeem,  with  this  ines- 
timable ransom,  us  wretches,  against  our  will  (for  we 
desired  Him  not),  from  the  power  of  Satan  and  of  hell. 
No  less  great,  wonderful,  and  unsearchable  is  the  love  of 
the  Spirit,  who  has  voluntarily  undertaken  to  destroy 
the  dragon's  brood,  to  cleanse  the  dwellings  of  impuri- 
ty, and  the  dens  of  rapine  and  of  murder ;  and  who,  in 
the  execution  of  his  office,  visits  scenes  of  the  most  dis- 
gusting depravity  and  lewdness.     What  chambers  of 
pollution  are  our  hearts  !     Like  the  cities  of  the  plains, 
how  full  of  corruption  and   uncleanness ;  but   if  the 
Spirit   once  enters  these  Sodoms  and   Gomorrahs,  he 
departs  not  again  till   they   are  thoroughly  purified. 
How  joyfully  he  causes  the  light  of  heaven  to  shine 
into  these  habitations  of  darkness,  and  stores  them  with 
the  treasures  of  truth  and  wisdom  contained  in  the 
Scriptures,  and  from  that  fullness  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus.     How  unchanging  and   untiring  is   this   love : 
those  who  once  become  its  objects  can  never  be  sever- 
ed from  its  influence : '  I  will  send  you  another  Comfort- 
er, said  the  Savior,  that  he  may  abide  with  you  for 
ever.'     But,  alas,  how  often  do  his  people  stray  from 
Him,  and  lose  themselves  again  in  the  world  ;  yet  he 
never  forsakes  them.     How  could  he  ?  he  pursues  them 
into  the  vortex  of  dissipation,  and  leaves  them  no  peace 
in  their  sins.     He  chastises,  warns,  invites  them  ;  he 
causes  lucid  intervals  to  break  in  upon  them  in  the 
midst  of  their  revels :  and  never  ceases  to  call  after 
them,  Turn  ye !  turn  ye !  till  they  hear  his  voice,  and 
return  dejected  and  afflicted  to  the  fold  from  whence 
they  had  wandered.     Let  none  suppose  that  he  will  re- 
ceive them  with  the  bitterness  of  reproach,  or  over- 
24 


274  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

whelm  them  with  the  thunders  of  his  "wrath*  Quite 
the  contrary.  He  seeks,  by  every  means,  to  wipe  away 
the  tears  of  his  afflicted  children,  to  inspire  them  with 
confidence  in  the  faithfulness  of  Jehovah }  and  repeat- 
edly says  to  them,  Weep  not,  there  are  gifts  also,  even 
for  the  backsliding — nay,  and  perhaps  bestows  upon 
them  unusual  consolations  ;  if  therefore  the  dove  be  in 
truth  the  significant  emblem  of  faithful  love,  it  is  the  ap- 
propriate symbol  of  the  Comforter.  Of  all  birds,  the 
dove  is  the  cleanest  and  most  delicate.  In  filthy  places 
she  will  not  abide.  Thus  it  is  with  the  Comforter. 
Many  of  you  are  ready  to  exclaim,  but  our  hearts — are 
they  not  filthy  1  Indeed  there  is  jio  deficiency  of  impu- 
rity there.  But,  let  it  be  remembered,  the  dove  is  not 
at  rest  within  them.  Is  she  not  incessantly  engaged  in 
detaching  and  expelling,  in  sweeping  and  garnishing  ? 
Her  habitation  must  be  cleansed,  and  she  would  never 
have  entered  it,  but  for  the 'certain  prospect  of  eventual- 
ly rendering  it  completely  pure  and  free  from  taint.  If 
there  be  a  spirit  within  you  that  can  be  at  ease  in  the 
midst  of  impurity,  and  that  can  endure  iniquity,  be  as- 
sured this  spirit  is  not  the  dove.  Where  the  dove  re- 
sides, there  is  a  constant  Conflict  in  the  soul  against  the 
seed  of  the  serpent — a  holy  and  zealous  desire  to  root  up 
every  thorn,  and  to  consume  it  with  fire.  This  dove,  saith 
St.  Paul,  lusteth  against  the  flesh,  and  the  flesh  against 
the  dove,  and  there  is  a  constant  warfare.  Wliere  the 
Spirit  dwells,  the  heart  becomes  the  arena  of  strife  j  for 
this  Divine  warrior  rests  not  till  he  has  bruised  the  head 
of  the  last  serpent  within  us,  and  destroyed  the  last 
cockatrice  egg.  How  sensitive  is  this  heavenly  dove  ! 
Of  the  dove  it  is  said,  that  the  feather  of  a  falcon,  or 


SERMON   V.  275 

hawk,  is  sufficient  to  make  her  flutter  and  tremble. 
Thus  it  is  with  the  Spirit  in  our  hearts :  if  but  the  slight- 
est impure  thought  arises  within  us,  he  is  at  once  in 
emotion.  Horror  seizes  him,  and  he  casts  the  abomina- 
tion from  him  with  disgust  and  indignation.  Are  you 
sensible  of  the  existence  of  such  an  uncompromising 
enemy  to  impurity  within  you  ? — then  rejoice,  for  the 
dove  is  there. 

The  dove  is  gentle,  and  it  is  in  this  respect  likewise  a 
striking  image  of  the  Spirit  of  grace.  In  the  form  of  a 
dove  the  Spirit  descended  upon  Jesus.  It  was  said  of 
him,  *  He  shall  not  cry,  nor  lift  up,  nor  cause  his  voice 
to  be  heard  in  the  street.  A  bruised  reed  shall  he  not 
break,  and  the  smoking  flax  shall  he  not  quench :  he 
shall  bring  forth  judgment  unto  truth.'  When  the  vil- 
lage of  Samaria  had  refused  to  receive  the  Lord,  and 
the  two  sons  of  thunder  angrily  exclaimed,  '  Lord,  wilt 
thou  that  we  command  fire  to  come  down  from  heaven, 
and  consume  them,  even  as  Elias  did !'  Jesus  turned 
and  rebuked  them,  and  said,  *  Ye  know  not  what  man- 
ner of  spirit  ye  are  of.'  The  Spirit  of  Christ  is  like  a 
gentle  dove.  It  judgeth  not,  thinketh  no  evil ;  when 
reviled,  it  revileth  not  again,  and  is  not  so  ready  to  call 
down  fire  from  heaven.  Where  it  enters,  it  introduces 
the  dispositions  of  the  dove.  How  could  it  be  other- 
wise 1  It  makes  us  feel  that  we  are  miserable  sinners, 
and  convinces  us  that  free  grace  alone  can  save  us. 
This  humbles,  silences,  and  renders  us  indulgent  and 
mild.  Then  we  willingly  cease  from  censuring  others ; 
we  behold  not  the  mote  in  our  brother's  eye,  on  account 
of  the  beam  in  our  own  eye.  It  is  unhappily  true,  that 
the  children  of  God  do  not  unfrequently  give  way  to 


276  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

anger,  jealousy,  and  a  censorious  spirit,  and  all  traces 
of  the  dove  are  obscured.  But  on  such  occasions  it  is 
not  the  dove  that  stirs  within  us,  but  the  Leviathan  of 
the  old  man,  that  has  again  caused  his  voice  to  be  heard  ; 
it  is  not  Jacob,  but  Esau  with  his  rough  skin,  that  is  in- 
deed mortally  wounded  within  us,  though  he  has  not 
yet  ceased  to  breathe.  It  is  the  flesh,  and  not  the  Spi- 
rit. The  Spirit  is  grieved  ;  it  upbraids  and  chastens  us, 
and  grants  us  no  peace,  till  we  are  humbled  and  repent- 
ant. Thus  it  is  evidently  a  dove — a  spirit  of  peace  and 
love,  mild  and  gentle. 

Already  inj  the  history  of  the  creation,  as  we  have 
seen,  the  Holy  Spirit  is  presented  to  us  under  the  simili- 
tude of  a  bird — no  doubt  the  dove.  The  Spirit  of  God, 
it  is  said,  brooded  upon  the  face  of  the  waters,  as  a  bird 
broods  with  extended  wings  upon  its  eggs.  This  figu- 
rative expression  indicates  that  the  Spirit  also  took  part 
in  the  creation ;  that  it  formed  the  was  te  and  void,  and 
gave  shape  and  beauty  to  the  earth.  And  spiritually, 
the  Spirit  is  incessantly  executing  the  same  work  in  the 
human  mind.  While  the  heart  is  still  as  chaos,  a  world 
ruined  by  Satan,  waste  and  void,  and  shrouded  in  the 
darkness  and  blindness  of  unbelief,  the  Spirit,  impelled 
by  love,  descends  and  overshadows  it,  as  it  overshadow- 
ed the  Virgin.  Now  the  command  goes  forth, '  Let 
there  be  light !'  and  there  is  light.  We  look  down  into 
the  dark  abyss  of  our  desolate  condition,  and  shudder 
with  horror.  The  light  is  separated  from  the  darkness. 
We  perceive  what  we  should  be  and  what  we  are  not. 
We  learn  to  jndge  spiritually,  and  to  discern  good  and 
evil  according  to  the  rule  of  God's  law.  And  God 
calls  the  light  day,  and  the  darkness  night.  Thus  be- 


SERMON  V.  277 

fore  we  are  aware,  the  light  of  a  new  life  has  sprung  up 
within  us,  which  scatters  and  expels  the  darkness  of  the 
old  ;  and  the  evening  and  the  morning  are  the  first  day. 
Under  the  wings  of  the  plastic  breath  of  the  Comforter, 
this  spiritual  creation  advances  steadily  towards  perfec- 
tion. The  desolate  soil  thirsteth  for  grace,  and  is  re- 
freshed with  the  verdure  of  a  new  creation.  The  sacred 
flowers  of  faith  and  love  spring  up.  A  new  world  is 
called  into  existence.  The  morning  stars  extol  the 
power  of  grace,  and  the  inward  spiritual  man,  renewed 
in  the  image  of  Christ,  walks  with  delight  in  the  bliss- 
ful paradise  of  communion  with  his  God.  '  The  Spirit 
moved  on  the  face  of  the  waters.'  Thus  it  is  still  in 
the  spiritual  \vorld.  Many  waters  rise  upon  the  believ- 
ing soul ;  but  the  Spirit  breaks  through  them  all,  main- 
tains the  ascendency,  arid  sustains  the  life  it  has  impart- 
ed. The  sensuality  of  our  sinful  nature  may  be  ac- 
counted as  one  of  these  waters.  How  frequently  do  its 
waves  swell  tumultuously ;  but  the  Spirit  still  moves 
above  them.  It  resembles  oil,  which  always  floats  up- 
on the  surface  of  water.  Our  sins  of  weakness  may 
likewise  be  accounted  a  water.  When  we  fall,  the  oil 
sinks  ;  yet  it  is  but  for  a  moment.  Behold  the  tears  of 
Mary  Magdalen,  and  of  Peter  after  his  fall !  The  oil 
rises  to  the  surface ;  the  Spirit  again  moves  upon  the 
face  of  the  waters !  The  afflictions  which  befall  us  may 
likewise  be  numbered  amongst  the  waters  which  rise 
upon  the  soul.  When  they  break  in  upon  us,  we  are 
alarmed  ;  we  tremble  and  are  dismayed.  A  raging 
flood  overwhelms  the  soul,  and  the  spirit  is  in  the  deep. 
But  it  is  soon  otherwise.  Reflection  comes,  we  bend 
the^knee,  and  sigh,  Lord  help  !'  We  throw  ourselves 
24* 


278         SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

upon  the  tender  mercy  of  the  Eternal  Father  ;  hope  re- 
vives, and  we  ask  our  soul, '  Why  art  thou  cast  down  V 
We  believe,  submit,  and  are  again  comforted.  The 
waters  are  forced  back,  the  Spirit  soars  above  them. 
Worldly  thoughts,  and  the  cares  of  time,  may  also  be 
accounted  waters.  How  frequently  do  they  overwhelm 
the  soul  like  a  mighty  torrent,  and  keep  it  groveling  in 
this  lower  sphere.  But  the  dove  soon  ascends  out  of 
these  tempestuous  billows ;  and  with  a  tranquil  mind, 
with  an  unconstrained  and  elevated  spirit,  we  are  ena- 
bled to  rejoice  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult.  Thus  the 
dove  is  never  prevented  from  moving  on  the  face  of  the 
waters,  and  in  every  conflict  is  the  last  on  the  field. 

When,  however,  the  Scriptures  speak  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  as  a  dove,  the  allusion  is  especially  to  the  dove 
of  Noah,  that  wished-for  messenger  bearing  the  symbol 
of  peace  and  of  joy  ;  and  it  is  his  office  of  Comforter,  of 
which  we  are  more  particularly  reminded  by  this  de- 
lightful figure,  than  of  any  other  of  his  works  and 
offices.  When  the  Savior  testifies  of  the  Spirit,  (  He 
shall  take  of  mine,  and  shew  it  unto  you,'  does  he  not 
designate  him  as  the  dove  which  shall  bear  the  olive 
branch  to  the  ark  of  the  New  Testament  Church.  The 
Spirit  is  the  appropriator,  the  sealer  of  that  which  the 
Son  has  wrought  out  for  us.  What  was  outwardly  pre- 
pared, he  applies  inwardly  ;  with  the  fruit  of  the  cross 
he  nourishes  the  heart ;  he  causes  the  living  waters  of 
the  fountain  opened  to  spring  up  within  us,  and  he  con- 
veys the  blood  of  the  lamb,  as  a  blood-sprinkling,  into 
the  innermost  soul.  Oh  what  a  delightful,  welcome 
vision,  is  this  heavenly  dove,  when  it  appears  unexpect- 
edly with  expanded  wings  above  the  swelling  billows 


SERMON  V.  279 

of  spiritual  sorrow  and  conscious  guilt,  hastening  with 
messages  of  mercy  towards  the  trembling  and  afflicted 
soul.  How  blissful  the  calm  after  such  a  conflict,  when 
the  Spirit  testifies  with  ours,  that  we  are  the  children  of 
God ;  and  the  pledge  of  our  eternal  redemption  is  more 
precious  to  us  than  crowns  and  sceptres.  Now  we  sit 
under  his  shadow  with  great  delight,  and  his  fruit  is 
sweet  to  our  taste.  Now  all  the  promises  of  Scripture 
are  ours.  The  Bible  appears  to  us  a  richly  laden  tree, 
extending  its  branches  towards  us.  On  us  the  dying 
eye  of  Jesus  rests,  when  from  the  cross  he  casts  a  last 
trembling  look  upon  the  earth ;  on  us  he  thinks,  when 
he  exclaims,  '  I  lay  down  my  life  for  my  sheep ;'  and 
to  us  his  blood-stained  arms  appear  extended,  while 
stretched  upon  the  tree.  The  consolation  of  reconcilia- 
tion distils  like  honey,  and  diffuses  itself  through  our  in- 
most being;  the  peace  of  God  encompasses  us;  the 
overcharged  heart  expands  like  the  ocean  ;  the  blessed 
dove  has  deposited  the  oh' ve  branch  in  the  ark. 

If  we  now  reflect  that  the  olive  branch,  whilst  it  is 
a  symbol  of  victory  and  of  triumph,  is  likewise  a  deco- 
ration of  honor ;  and  that  Noah,  to  whom  the  dove 
brought  the  olive  branch,  was  •  a  type  of  Christ ;  we 
shall  again  perceive  in  this  figure  a  trait  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  by  which  its  existence  in  the  converted  soul  is 
verified.  This  heavenly  dove  also  knows  a  worthy 
head  for  every  crown  and  garland ;  and  the  ultimate 
design  of  all  its  operations  is  to  glorify  the  Lord  Jesus. 
It  deprives  the  creature  of  all  honor,  to  confer  it  on  the 
Lord,  and  on  him  exclusively  ;  it  indelibly  impresses 
this  sentiment  on  the  believing  heart :  *  Not  unto  us,  O 
Lord,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  give  glory,  for 


280  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

thy  mercy,  and  for  thy  truth's  sake ;'  and  it  imparts  to 
the  mind,  that  holy  frame,  which  makes  it  recoil  from 
the  slightest  wish  to  magnify  itself,  as  from  an  infernal 
spirit  of  rebellion.  The  Savior  himself  says  the  same 
of  the  Comforter  :  (  He  shall  testify  of  me.' 

If  then  a  spirit  stir  within  you,  whatever  disguise  it 
may  assume,  which  tempts  you  to  magnify  yourselves, 
know  that  this  spirit  is  not  the  dove.  The  dove  will 
exalt  the  Savior  only. 

II. — Having  thus  glanced  at  the  heavenly  dove  her- 
self; let  us  now  also  listen  to  her  voice:  for  her  notes 
are  wonderful  and  enchanting.  '  The  voice  of  the  tur- 
tle,' says  the  Bridegroom  to  his  Shulamite,  '  is  heard  in 
our  land;'  and  we  say,  God  be  praised.  What  discord- 
ant notes  would  have  resounded  through  the  world,  if 
no  spirit  but  that  of  man  had  ever  prevailed  in  it.  There 
has  never  been  a  time,  in  which  this  heavenly  dove  has 
been  perfectly  silent  upon  earth.  Here  or  there,  in 
gentle  strains  at  least,  she  has  ever  caused  her  voice  to 
be  heard.  That  which  at  the  time  of  the  flood,  spake 
by  the  mouth  of  Noah  so  warningly  and  so  cheerihgly 
to  the  hearts  of  sinners  ~}  that  which,  in  the  patriarchal 
world,  proclaimed  such  glad  tidings,  and  announced  a 
day  at  which  Abraham  rejoiced ;  and  that  which  spake 
by  Moses  of  a  prophet,  whom  the  Lord  would  raise  up, 
like  unto  him ;  that  which  on  the  hill  of  Bethlehem  in- 
spired the  sweet  strains  of  the  royal  bard ;  that  which, 
by  the  voice  of  the  prophets,  pronounced  such  wonder- 
ful sayings,  and  revealed  such  sacred  mysteries ;  tell 
me  what  was  it  ?  What  else,  my  brethren,  but  the 
dove ;  what  else  but  the  dove  of  that  Spirit  which 


SERMON  V.  281 

searches  even  the  deep  things  of  God,  and  which  re- 
sounds through  all  the  promises.  In  the  Bible,  that 
tree  of  life,  she  sits  upon  every  branch,  and  her  voice 
may  be  heard  in  an  endless  variety  of  tone  and  modula- 
tion ;  -  and  those  who  have  an  ear  for  its  melodies,  know 
how  affectingly  and  thrillingly  she  sometimes  sings, 
how  consoling  and  quickening  her  strains  ;  so  that  the 
heart  is  penetrated,  and  almost  dissolves  in  blissful 
emotion. 

The  turtle  dove  is  heard  in  our  land  ;  not  in  the 
Scriptures  only,  but  also  in  the  land  of  our  hearts :  and 
here  likewise  her  strains  are  harmonious,  though  varied. 
True  it  is,  that  other  birds  also  coo  therein,  but  the  notes 
of  the  dove  are  easily  distinguished.  Dost  thou  hear, 
for  instance,  a  spirit  commend  to  thee  any  thing  but 
Christ  and  his  blood  as  the  rock  of  thy  salvation  and 
the  ground  of  thy  hope  ;  does  it  speak  to  thee  of  thy 
good  qualities,  of  the  powers  that  slumber  within  thee ; 
close  thy  door  against  it.  It  is  not  the  dove,  but  the 
raven.  Does  it  cry,  *  Peace,  peace !  there  is  no  dan- 
ger !'  close  thine  ear ;  there  is  an  infernal  spirit  near 
thee.  Does  it  say,  *  Hasten  from  Sodom,  and  save  thy 
soul !'  give  ear  to  it,  it  is  the  dove.  Does  it  tell  thee, 
1  Thy  sins  are  too  great  for  thee,  there  is  no  mercy  !' 
then  arm  thyself ;  it  is  the  lion's  roar.  Does  it  cry, 
'  And  if  they  be  red  like  crimson,  the  blood  of  the  Lamb 
will  make  them  white  as  wool !'  it  is  the  dove.  Does 
it  say,  *  First  become  worthy,  reform  thyself,  then  come 
to  Jesus !'  give  it  to  the  winds ;  it  is  an  erring  spirit. 
Does  it  say, '  Come  as  thou  art,  come  boldly,  for  the 
Savior  receives  sinners,'  listen  to  its  voice ;  let  it  not 
be  said  to  thee  twice  ;  for  the  turtle  dove  is  heard  in  the 
land. 


282  SOLOMON   AND   THE    SHULAMITE. 

The  voice  of  the  sacred  dove  speaks  to  our  hearts, 
and  .reverberates  from  therice  in  confessions,  in  exhorta- 
tions, in  prayer  and  praise  ;  and  thus  again  its  voice  is 
heard  in  the  land.  But  is  it  always  the  voice  of  the 
dove  that  is  thus  heard  1  It  is  true,  the  raven  voice  of 
the  old  man  sometimes  imitates  so  successfully  the  voice 
of  the  dove,  that  it  requires  a  fine  and  practised  ear,  to 
detect  the  raven's  voice  in  such  melodious  sounds. 
Even  mental  conflicts  and  states  of  feeling  occur,  in 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  has  not  the  slightsst  share,  and 
which  must  be  entirely  ascribed  to  nature,  and  not  to 
grace ;  and  yet  they  so  strongly  resemble  the  operations 
of  the  Spirit,  that  the  clearest  sight  is  often  deceived, 
and  the  nicest  discernment  frequently  baffled.  Here 
the  well-known  event  in  the  history  of  Jephtha,  the  hero 
of  Gilead,  occurs  to  me,  who,  after  he  had  defeated  and 
scattered  the  Ephraimites,  took  possession  of  the  pas- 
sages of  Jordan,  resolved  that  none  of  the  fugitives 
should  return  alive  to  their  native  land.  Aware,  per- 
haps, of  their  conqueror's  intention,  but  obliged  to 
cross  the  river,  or  perish  in  the  desert,  they  approach 
the  ford,  and  deny  that  they  are  Ephraimites.  They 
are  put  to  the  test,  all  of  them  are  required  to  pro- 
nounce the  word  Shiboleth !  but  they  said  Siboleth  : 
1  for  they  could  not  frame  to  pronounce  it  right ;'  and 
all  were  put  to  the  sword.  What  a  serious  and  im- 
portant truth  does  this  scene  present  to  us.  Before  him 
who  holds  the -ford,  beyond  which  lies  the  Canaan  of 
God,  all  depends  upon  an  apparent  trifle.  On  the  ex- 
istence or  non-existence  of  a  something  within  us,  irre- 
spective of  all  other  considerations,  will  it  depend, 
whether  we  shall  be  permitted  to  pass  over,  or  whether 


SERMON  V.  283 

the  sword  of  -his  indignation  shall  descend  upon  us. 
The  spiritual  resemblance  between  the  man  who  is  re- 
jected, and  the  one  who  is  accepted,  may  be  as  great 
as  that  between  Shiboleth  and  Siboleth.  Who  can  de- 
tect any  material  difference  ?  But  God  is  a  keen  dis- 
cerner.  To  him  the  difference  in  the  characters  of  the 
two  men  may  be  as  decisive,  as  was  to  Jephtha  that 
between  Shiboleth  and  Siboleth,  which  marked  the 
friendly  Gileadite  from  the  rebellious  Ephraimite:  Be- 
hold here  two  men.  Both  smite  upon  their  breast,  both 
weep,  both  call  themselves  the  chief  of  sinners,  and 
both  are  sinners.  We  see  their  tears,  we  hear  their 
confessions.  Both  are  afflicted,  both  complain.  To  us 
no  difference  is  visible ;  we  deem  them  both  repentant 
sinners ;  and  had  we  the  crown  of  righteousness  to 
bestow,  we  should  invest  them  with  the  same  decora- 
tions. Both  appear  at  the  passage  of  Jordan,  both 
stand  before  the  Judge :  and  behold  !  one  only  is 
crowned,  and  the  other  is  lost.  Gracious  God !  Why 
should  this  be  ?  The  one  said  Shiboleth,  the  other 
Siboleth.  We  observed  it  not ;  -but  the  Lord  is  a  nice 
discerner.  Only  Si  instead  of  Shi,  but  the  difference 
is  sufficient  to  cause  an  eternal  separation.  The  one 
smote  upon  his  breast  from  fear,  the  other  from  love. 
Hell  made  the  one  to  weep,  the  cross  the  other.  The 
complaint  of  the  one  was  :  Oh  that  I  should  have  in- 
curred such  guilt !  the  complaint  of  the  other  was  :  Ah, 
that  I  should  have  caused  thee,  Lord  Jesus,  so  much 
suffering  !  The  one  lamented  the  consequences  of  sin  ; 
the  other,  the  transgressions  themselves.  Sin  had  not 
extorted  a  tear  from  the  one,  had  it  not  rendered  him 
miserable,  for  he  thought  but  of  his  comfort ;  the  other 


284  SOLOMON   AND   THE   SHULAMTTE. 

would  have  abhorred  sin,  though  it  had  exercised  no 
influence  over  his  peace ;  for  he  sought  the  honor  of 
his  God.  In  short,  when  the  characters  of  the  two 
were  developed,  it  was  apparent  that  selfishness  pro- 
duced repentance  in  the  one,  and  that  the  tears  of  the 
other  were  those  of  love.  In  the  one  was  concealed  a 
repentant  Cain ;  in  the  other,  a  weeping  Magdalene. 
In  the  one  nature  predominated ;  in  the  other,  grace. 
A  difference  less  perceptible  than  that  in  Shiboleth 
and  Siboleth,  yet  immeasurably  great,  and  lasting  as 
eternity !  Two  men  sit  by  the  way  side.  Both  cry, 
(  Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me  !'  Nei- 
ther of  them  are  hypocrites,  but  both  mean  what  they 
say.  We  pronounce  both  blessed  ;  but  will  the  Judge 
confirm  our  sentence  ?  At  the  passage  of  Jordan  it 
will  be  decided.  Though  their  acts  have  been  the 
same,  a  mighty  wind  may  there  separate  them  for 
ever ;  raising  the  one  on  high,  while  it  precipitates  the 
other  into  the  abyss.  And  why  should  it  be  so  ?  To 
us  it  seemed,  that  both  had  said  Shiboleth.  Alas  !  the 
one  had  only  said  Si ;  we  did  not  observe  it.  That  was 
his  ruin.  The  one  cried  to  the  Savior  like  Bartimeus, 
and  the  thief  on  the  cross  ;  the  other,  like  the  devils  ; 
(  Lord  do  not  command  us  to  go  down  into  the  deep.' 
The  one  thought  within  himself:  '  Ah,  if  I  had  but 
Jesus,  what  need  I  care  for  heaven  !'  The  other, f  Ah, 
if  I  had  but  heaven,  what  need  I  care  for  Jesus  !'*  The 
one  sighed  for  the  love  of  Christ :  the  other  for  his 
saving  hand.  The  cry  of  the  one  marked  the  fervor  o 
the  lover  ;  that  of  the  other,  the  despair  of  the  helpless 

*  This  is  according  to  Luther's  translation'of  Ps.  Ixxiii.  25. — ED. 


SERMON  V.  285 

anxious  for  salvation,  but  indifferent  by  whom  it  is 
effected :  the  devil  would  be  as  welcome  as  Jesus,  pro- 
vided he  could  as  effectually  save  from  perdition.  To 
our  dull  senses  this  was  not  perceptible.  But  he  who 
sits  upon  the  throne  heard  at  once  that  it  was  not  the 
Shiboleth  of  the  Gileadite.  His  ear  listens  for  the  voice 
of  the  dove.  Nothing  but  Spirit  and  truth  can  stand 
before  him. 

We  cannot  say,  therefore,  that  true  heartfelt  Chris- 
tianity consists  in  tears,  in  penitence,  or  in  an  earnest 
longing  after  the  bliss  of  heaven.  We  cannot  say  it 
consists  in  prayers,  in  Christian  deportment,  or  in  evan- 
gelical knowledge.  Neither  does  it  consist  in  love  for 
the  Gospel,  in  the  emotions  it  awakens  within  us,  or  in 
zeal  for  the  spread  of  Divine  truth.  Nor  in  an  open 
confession  of  Christ,  and  the  ability  to  testify  and  speak 
of  him  with  eloquence,  edification,  and  instruction. 
Brethren  all  this  may  only  constitute  a  Siboleth ;  and 
woe  be  to  us,  if  at  the  passage  of  Jordan  it  should  so 
appear.  It  may  all  proceed  from  the  natural  man,  and 
be  the  mere  workings  of  a  selfish  nature.  But  nothing 
'vill  stand  the  Divine  scrutiny,  that  is  not  the  work  and 
produce  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  essence  of  which  is  not 
the  love  of  Christ. 

That  it  is  sometimes  impossible  for  the  nicest  dis- 
cernment to  distinguish  between  seemingly  devout  sen- 
timents, whether  they  are  the  effusions  of  the  Spirit,  or 
the  mere  promptings  of  the  natural  man,  we  have  al- 
ready seen.  But  there  are  cases,  in  which  a  difference 
may  be  perceived,  like  that  between  Shiboleth  and  Sibo- 
leth,  by  which  we  recognize  at  once  a  Gileadite  or  an 
Ephraimite.  In  sermons,  hymns,  books,  and  prayers, 
25 


286  SOLOMON  AND -THE  SHULAMITE. 

though  equally  correct  and  true,  devout  and  evangeli- 
cal, there  is  a  certain  something  which  we  feel  but  can- 
not describe,  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  say,  "  Here  is 
the  dove,  and  here  some  other  bird ;  this  is  the  spirit, 
and  this  nature ;  this  is  genuine,  and  this  spurious ;  this 
is  life,  but  this  a  portrait." 

The  dove  speaks  through  the  children  of  God ;  but 
not  always  in  the  same  accents.  Sometimes  its  strains 
are  sorrowful,  interrupted  by  sighs  and  tears :  '  Lord 
Jesus,  have  mercy  on  me !'  At  others  languishing,  and 
expressive,  of  the  most  ardent  longings :  '  Ah,  when 
shall  I  depart  hence,  that  I  may  behold  thy  glory  ?' 
Now  they  are  those  of  dejection  and  complaint :  (  0 
wretched  man  that  I  am !  who  shall  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death  V  Then  they  breathe  the  rap- 
tures of  nuptial  joy :  '  My  beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am 
his :,  he  feedeth  among  the  lilies !'  They  are  some- 
times eloquent  and  persuasive  :  '  Come  and  hear,  all  ye 
that  fear  God,  and  I  will  declare  what  he  hath  done  for 
my  soul !'  Then  again  they  are  short  and'ejaculatory ; 
a  single  '  Ah  !'  or  Oh  !'  is  all  that  we  can  hear — but 
they  are  tones  that  reverberate  through  the  choirs  of 
heaven.  Sometimes  it  ascends  in  sighs  and  groans  : 
'  Put  not  thy  servant  away  in  anger  :  thou  hast  been  my 
help.'  Again  its  voice  is  heard  through  deep  conflict 
and  distress;  in  gentle  accents  it  is  true,  but  distinct 
and  full  of  consolation.  The  powers  of  darkness  may 
sometimes  succeed  in  bewildering  a  redeemed  soul,  by 
confounding  all  its  evidences;  by  subverting  its  faith  in 
the  Rock  of  its  hope,  and  in  the  sacred  volume;  till,  in 
its  perplexity,  it  is  tempted  to  renounce  all  belief  in  a 
God  or  Savior,  in  a  heaven  or  hell.  What  can  here  be 


SERMON   V.  287 

perceived  of  the  note  of  the  dove  ?  Nothing,  we  are 
ready  to  reply.  Here  the  raven's  croak  is  heard.  But 
let  us  listen  attentively.  It  is  true  that  in  doubters,  as 
such,  the  voice  of  the  dove  is  not  heard.  But  it  may 
be  recognized  in  the  accents  of  complaint  in  which  the 
tempted  and  benighted  soul  gives  utterance  to  its 
doubts  ;  in  the  sighs  and  groans  with  which  it  laments 
its  unbelief;  in  the  longing,  wrestling  supplications 
which  the  heart  pours  forth  to  the  Lord,  that  He  would 
again  cause  his  light  to  shine.  Thus,  amongst  the 
saints  of  God,  it  causes  its  voice  to  be  heard  in  an  end- 
less variety  of  ways,  and  diversity  of  modulation :  but 
it  is  every  where  the  same  dove. 

The  turtle  dove  is  heard  in  the  land  !  God  be  prais- 
ed, a  period  has  already  dawned,  in  which  these  words 
have  a  delightful  application  to  the  land  in  which  we 
dwell.  The  drooping  and  expiring  church  of  Christ  be- 
gins to  revive,  and  put  forth  blossoms ;  the  frosty  night 
of  winter  has  begun  to  yield  to  the  genial  breath  of 
spring,  promising  a  more  glorious  future ;  and  the  tur- 
tle, so  long  banished  and  forgotten,  has  re-appeared  in 
the  land.  How  many  congregations,  that  once  heard 
nothing  but  the  raven-like  croakings  of  the  most  com- 
fortless unbelief,  are  now  refreshed  by  the  voice  of  the 
dove.  What  testimonies  to  the  truth,  what  prayers  and 
praises,  have  of  late  again  been  heard  in  the  church  ; 
and  the  presence  of  the  dove  has  been  most  manifest 
and  refreshing.  But  the  brightness  that  shines  in  our 
day,  is  but  the  opening  splendor  of  an  incomparably 
more  glorious  period  that  is  rapidly  approaching.  Mag- 
nificent promises  hang  suspended  over  the  church,  like 
clouds  pregnant  with  blessings.  Blessed  assurances, 


288        SOLOMON  AND  THE  SHULAMITE. 

like  sweet  messengers  of  joy,  stand  at  her  portals.  O 
Shulamite,  wait  and  be  comforted  !  Let  not  the  tem- 
pests and  horrors  which  here  and  there  may  rage,  ex- 
cite thy  fears.  It  is  but  the  struggle  between  spring  and 
winter,  between  life  and  death.  Death  will  be  vanquish- 
ed ;  and  when  thou  least  expectest,  it  will  again  be  said 
to  thee,  but  in  a  fuller  and  more  exalted  sense,  '  Rise 
up,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away :  for,  lo,  the 
winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over  and  gone.  The  flowers 
appear  on  the  earth;  the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is 
come  ;  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land  !' 
0  blessed  period  !  may  the  Lord  hasten  it.  Amen. 


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